


The Tale of Isengrim Baggins

by Thorinsfurcoat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsfurcoat/pseuds/Thorinsfurcoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, is there any name you like?” he asked, watching the dwarfling’s eyes light up with excitation. Thorin nodded enthusiastically and pointed to a name way up in the genealogy.</p>
<p>    “Isen…grim?” Thorin said hesitantly, looking at Bilbo for approval.</p>
<p>    “Very well, this will be your name then” Bilbo said smiling.</p>
<p>When he was a child, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, became better known as Isengrim Baggins, son of Bilbo Baggins.</p>
<p>But Isengrim will never be able to escape his true name. And when a group of Dwarves come crashing into his once peaceful life as a Hobbit, everything is bound to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, and I'm actually a bit nervous about posting this. Although I did write fan fiction for other fandoms before I haven't written anything for a while, so my writing here may not be my best. This idea wouldn't leave me alone so I had to write it down.
> 
> There will be no pairings in the first few chapters. Will be later Dworin, because I just can't ignore my OTP.
> 
> Sorry to all the Thilbo lovers but there will be no Bagginshield here, however expect some non-slash Thorin and Bilbo cuteness!
> 
> Also I totally butchered the timeline, messed up with the character's ages, and there may or may not be some slightly out of character but I tried my best, and keep in mind that this is AU!
> 
> A big thank you goes to The Queen for helping me with the summary! 
> 
> Criticism both positive and negative are welcome so feel free to leave a comment!

The Tale of Isengrim Baggins

Chapter 1

There were many things Prince Thrain was proud of, and being the future king of the greatest dwarven kingdom was not the least of these things. However his greatest pride was his young son. It wasn’t unusual for the dwarves of Erebor to see their crown prince walking along the long corridors with a small bundle carefully wrapped in warm blankets comfortably resting in his arms, sometimes even taking the little dwarfling with him at council meetings, letting him rest in his lap while the proud father lovingly ran a hand through the mane of raven black hair. The proud, loving glint in his eyes in those moments was obvious to everyone; and some council members would politely compliment their prince for having produced such a fine little dwarf, and they couldn’t help but mirror the tender smile that appeared on Thrain’s face. The crown prince of Erebor loved nothing more than his son, and there was no doubt that he would be devastated if the young little prince were to disappear.

After a couple of years the little prince Thorin began to grow up fast and so did the love his father felt for him. It was a well known fact in the kingdom that King Thror was beginning to act strange, some would even say that he was sick, the kind of sickness of the mind that knew no cure. Those were tough times for the crown prince who had to bear even more responsibilities and take care of most of the king’s duties in place of his father. Thrain was even more grateful these days to have his son who never failed to bring happiness in his life, and a smile on his face. When he had to travel outside of his kingdom he would often bring the little prince with him which would considerably lighten his mood. It was easier now that the princeling wasn’t a mere baby anymore, and little Thorin certainly didn’t mind, he liked nothing more than to be with his father and discovering new places.

***  
Thorin was comfortably nestled against his father’s chest, lulled to sleep by the slow, regular pace of their pony. He was awoken by the screams of their guards, and he opened his eyes, blinking around in confusion. A sudden jerk of the pony made him scream and he hit the ground painfully, holding back a pained yell when he saw his father running to him. He was vaguely aware of sounds similar to those he was used to hearing when his father took him to watch the guards train in the lower levels of the kingdom, and he noticed that there were other dwarves encircling them, fighting the guards. He was frightened and confused, not understanding what was going on, but his father was here, running to him, he would gather him in his strong arms and he would be safe again.

However his father didn’t reach him in time. Another pair of hands roughly grabbed him and he let out a loud scream, kicking and punching with all the strength his small limbs could muster, but the grip the stranger had on him only tightened and he was taken away, watching helplessly as his father was surrounded by more of these wild dwarves, fighting with a blind rage, desperately screaming his son’s name.

***  
“Eat this” one of the dwarves said, dropping a piece of small, dry bread in front of Thorin. The dwarfling stared at it for a short moment, then looked up at the dwarf with huge frightened eyes, not daring to say a word.

“I said eat this” the dwarf repeated, picking up the bread and shoving it under Thorin’s nose, who took it hesitantly. It had been days since the fight now, though he couldn’t tell how long exactly, but it seemed like a lifetime since the day on which he had been taken from his father. He was tired, scared and hungry, but there was no way he could eat that foul looking piece of bread. Even his captors grimaced while eating it, and it didn’t look appetizing at all. The dwarfling was at a loss of what to do. He had tried countless times to glare at his captors as best as he could from his short size, telling them his name with as much of a commanding tone as he could muster and demanding to be freed and returned to his father, but the other dwarves had only laughed at him.

“Yes, we know who you are, and that’s exactly why you are with us right now” the tallest of the would reply with a menacing grin. So the dwarfling had remained quiet, until now. 

“I want some meat” Thorin said timidly. His captors all turned to look at him with expressions of mixed amusement and annoyance. 

“We don’t have any, so eat whatever we give you” one of them groaned.

“But I don’t want to eat this, I want meat!” Thorin said, louder this time, using the whining voice he used when he tried to get his father or someone else to do something he wanted. He threw the bread to the ground and looked up at the dwarves in defiance, holding their gazes and trying his best to hide his fear. He didn’t see the slap coming, so hard that he was knocked to the ground.

“Shut up, you little shit, you either eat what we have or you don’t eat at all” he heard a deep, grumpy voice say. The dwarfling whimpered faintly, remaining on the ground in the same position, not daring to move. His cheek was stinging from where he had been hit and his head hurt too.

“He hasn’t eaten anything since we took him” another dwarf said. “It wouldn’t be wise to let him die of hunger, he’d be of no use to us then. We need him alive if we want our plan to succeed.”

“Who cares whether he eats or not” another snorted. “As long as we have him the king will be forced to do as we say.”

“I’ve heard that he doesn’t even care about his own kin anymore, he’s gone all mad for his gold” the larger dwarf said.

“Even if he doesn’t, his son will. The crown prince will do anything to get this little one back” another one said gesturing to where Thorin lay still on the ground. “If the king refuses to abduct, then we turn to the crown prince and force him to take his father’s place. And as long as we have his son he will have to do as we say. It’s almost as if we have our own asses on the throne” he added with a short laugh.

“Our leader, you mean” a particularly tall dwarf groaned. “The plan was all his idea, and we will do as he told us. Now someone’s better get up and shoot a deer, or a rabbit, I don’t care what it is, just bring back some meat. The boss wouldn’t be pleased if the little brat isn’t delivered alive and healthy to him. And hurry up, we have to leave again as soon as possible.”

Four of the seemingly younger dwarves stood up, groaning and mumbling to themselves, gathered their arms and left to hunt. The camp was suddenly silent, the only sound coming from the small fire they had lit. Thorin took a tentative look at the remaining dwarves; three of them were obviously asleep, two others were whispering to each other, and the last one was busy cleaning his axe. None of them seemed to notice the little dwarfling as he slowly stood up, took a deep breath and bolted, running as fast as his legs would take him to the nearest bushes, then deeper into the forest. There were angry shouts coming from behind him, but he didn’t dare look back and ran, ran even faster, thinking about nothing but the need to escape. 

He didn’t stop running until it was dark, and only then did he allow himself a short break before taking off again. He had no idea where he was or in which direction he was heading but it didn’t matter, he just needed to get away from those awful dwarves and find someone, anyone who could help him.

It was dawn when he collapsed to the ground, unable to take another step. He crawled under thick bushes and laid down, tears of exhaustion running down his face. He was alone, lost, hungry and hunted, but he would somehow find his way to safety, and back to his father, he just had to. There was no other choice and he didn’t want to think about the many things that could happen to him if he didn’t find help soon. He would, he was sure of it, and he fell asleep with this thought, clinging to it with all his might.

***  
Bilbo Baggins was used to finding strange things when wandering in the forest. Unknown mushrooms, fallen trees and wounded animals weren’t unusual to him, but a small child with dirty, torn clothes was. Said child was looking up at him with big, frightened blue eyes, obviously exhausted and famished but ready to run away would Bilbo make a single move towards him.

“What are you doing here? Are you lost? Don’t be afraid, I just want to help you” he said as gently as possible, offering a tentative smile to the child. The little creature stared at him, looking him up and down a few times, seemingly impressed by his big, hairy hobbit feet, obviously trying to decide whether he was facing a friend or a foe. 

“Come here”, Bilbo said quietly, crouching down, his smile widening a little. It happened more than once than his nephews and nieces, especially on the Took side of his family wandered a bit too far and got lost, sometimes disappearing for a couple of days, but this child had something unusual about him. His suspicions were confirmed when the child took a few hesitant steps towards him, limping and grimacing in pain. This wasn’t a hobbit child.

“Are you hurt?” he asked gently, watching as the child nodded weakly and pointed to his ankle. “Let me see this” Bilbo said, slowly inching forward until he was close enough to touch the child. He carefully inspected the injured ankle, He let off a sigh of relief when he didn’t find any sign of fracture. 

“Looks like you sprained you ankle” he said, carefully touching the swollen area. Thorin whimpered softly but didn’t pull away, neither did he fight the stranger when he cradled him into his arms and gently lifted him, surprised to find him heavier than he would have expected for someone so small. 

The strange creature certainly wasn’t a dwarf, it was smaller than most dwarves, dressed oddly and walked barefoot, but the voice was calming, and Thorin had no strength left to fight so he let himself be carried and closed his tired eyes, vaguely hearing the creature who had found him talk about bringing him to his home, promising him food and a bed for the night. He sighed contentedly at these words, a small, tired smile appearing on his lips. He was asleep before they reached the road to Hobbiton, and long before they arrived to Bilbo’s house. 

Thorin awoke a couple of hours later, feeling a bit better and rested but confused by his surroundings. He was in a bed in a strange room, yet he was not alone, he could hear faint noises coming from another room further into the house –surely this place had to be someone’s house, it did look like one even if it was nothing like the stone halls of Erebor the young dwarfling was used to. Sweet, spicy smells reached his nostrils, reminding him how hungry he was and he silently slipped out of bed. The scents of food smelt so good he couldn’t help but follow them, slowly walking around the house, staring at his surroundings with big surprised eyes. He was in an underground hole, this much he was sure of, and it was somewhat reassuring, yet it was so different from his own home.

Bilbo smiled to himself as he heard the hesitant footsteps behind him and he turned around to see the little dwarf awkwardly standing in the middle of the kitchen, sniffing around, looking up at him with his big blue eyes.

“I see someone woke up just in time for second breakfast” Bilbo said gently, pulling out a chair for the dwarfling to sit. He finished to cook his eggs and bacon and put everything on a plate, placing it on the table along with the toasts, bagels and jars of jam. Thorin followed his every move, intrigued, his mouth watering at the sight of all the delicious food placed in front of him. Bilbo took place in his own chair and filled two plates, one for himself and one for his guest, who proceeded to gulp down every bit of food in no time, looking up at the hobbit with pleading eyes once he was finished, hoping for more. Of course Bilbo obliged and encouraged him to pick whatever he wanted and eat as much as he desired. Thorin stuffed himself with food, filling his plate a third time. He took his time to savor every flavor now that he was no longer famished, his eyes still following Bilbo’s every move. 

He still couldn’t figure out what exactly this strange creature was, as he obviously was no dwarf like he himself was, and he was unsure what he was supposed to do or what Bilbo wanted to do with him, yet the hobbit’s calm, quiet demeaning told Thorin that he was no potential danger. It seemed all Bilbo wanted was to help him and take care of him. Maybe he had finally found an ally?

The hobbit busied himself washing the dishes and putting some order in the kitchen before beginning to bake cookies. Sure enough it wasn’t long before the dwarfling was beside him again, standing on his tiptoes, trying to peer into the bowl where Bilbo was kneading his dough. The hobbit smiled at him encouragingly and held out a hand to him.

“I bet you like cookies” he said smiling when the dwarfling nodded enthusiastically. “Then why don’t you come here and help me a bit?”

Thorin stared at the outstretched hand, hesitant for a moment before he bravely took a step forward and grabbed Bilbo’s hand. The hobbit pulled out a stool for the little dwarf to stand on and showed him how to knead the dough, gently taking his hands in his own to guide his movements. The dwarfling remained silent but the curious glint in his eyes made it obvious that he was enjoying himself. The hobbit tried to get him to talk, gently asking him if he was lost and where his parents were, but the dwarfling only shook his head and stubbornly refused to utter a single word. After a while Bilbo gave up and stopped asking questions, only addressing his little guest to give him instructions on how to form the cookies and place them on the baking plate. 

“Now what about taking a bath?” Bilbo suggested once the cookies were in the oven. “It will be some time before we can eat these, we could get you cleaned up in the meanwhile” he suggested. Thorin was still wearing his dirty, torn clothes and it pained the hobbit to see him in such a state. He held out his hand and Thorin took it without much hesitation this time, obediently following him to the bathroom. The little dwarf seemed a bit reluctant at first when Bilbo stripped him out of his clothes but once he was in the tub filled with hot water he appeared to be much calmer, letting the hobbit soap him up while he quietly played with the water, splashing around with his little hands. Bath time was something familiar, and it soothed him immediately, making him almost forget about the last few days. He was warm, comfortable and he felt safe, and it that moment nothing else seemed to matter. 

Bilbo couldn’t help but notice how different his little guest was from a hobbit child. He had muscles where hobbits had a healthy little amount of fat, and he was much stronger in built, even for such a young child. The more Bilbo observed him, the more he was convinced that this was a little dwarf, but it had him even more confused since there weren’t any dwarves in the Shire, he himself had only ever heard of dwarves by some of his Took cousins who had travelled as far as Bree, where a few dwarves were sometimes to be seen, mostly merchants or travelling smiths, and even those were rather rare. Sure, he had read about dwarves in numerous books, but he had never really been curious about gold greedy creatures who lived in dark caves, and while he would sometimes go for long walks, hoping to spot some elves in the woods, he had never had much interest in meeting a dwarf. Yet here he was, back from another unsuccessful attempt at seeing elves, instead bringing a little dwarf into his home. That wasn’t really a respectable thing to do, come to think of it, and surely not the kind of thing that would be likely to happen to a Baggins, but then letting a lost child, be it a hobbit or a dwarf, starve in the forest was definitely even less respectable, and something Bilbo would never resign himself to do. If help was needed, then help he would provide, and that little dwarf looked like he could indeed use some help. 

“I’m Bilbo Baggins” he said once Thorin was clean and comfortably wrapped in one of Bilbo’s warm bathrobes, which was of course way too big for such a small child. He would have to ask one of his neighbors if they had any children clothes that he could borrow, but he wasn’t really looking forward to explaining to Miss Gamgee why a confirmed bachelor like him suddenly needed children clothing. Of course the little dwarf needed something to wear, but for now this would have to do. “And what is your name?”

Thorin was about to tell his own name when he remembered how disastrous it had proved to be with the dwarves who had kidnapped him. If his name could get him in trouble with them, maybe it would get him in trouble with Bilbo too? What if he suddenly decided to throw him out, or even worse to lock him up somewhere? In Erebor most dwarves knew who he was and those who didn’t showed him respect as soon as he told them his name, but it seemed that this wasn’t the case when outside of his home. It had the little dwarf confused, but he understood that being a prince meant that he could be taken prisoner like he had been when these mean dwarves had torn him from his father’s side, so he decided to stubbornly remain silent and not reveal his real name, even when Bilbo asked him a second time. The hobbit sighed, at a loss of what to do. The poor little dwarf hadn’t spoken a single word since Bilbo had found him, he looked frightened and lost, and the hobbit had no idea what to do to make him feel better. Slowly, he crouched down in front of Thorin.

“I know you are lost and scared, but you don’t need to be afraid of me. I only want to help you if I can, and you are welcome to stay here until we find your family again, alright?” he said before he could realize that he had just invited a dwarf to stay with him in his home. But then there wasn’t anyone he could think of who would be willing to offer the dwarfling shelter, and he was so tiny, it wasn’t as if he had a full grown dwarf living in his home. Now that would be something totally unrespectable, something he would never want to happen to him, he thought shaking his head in disgust. No, he wasn’t sheltering a dwarf, he was only offering help to a lost child, that was something entirely different.

His mind made up he offered his hand to the dwarfling who took it instantly this time, and he smiled as he led the child to a small room at the back of the hobbit hole. The little dwarf trotted alongside him like it was the most natural thing, and Bilbo’s smile widened as he wondered if this meant that the child was beginning to trust him. They came to a halt when they reached Bilbo’s study, and Thorin’s eyes widened when he gazed up at the he family tree covering almost all of the walls.

“This is my extended family tree” Bilbo said proudly; like every hobbit he had a passion for genealogy and while his family tree was probably one of the biggest he wasn’t the only one to have it exposed on his walls. It was a nice thing to look at while sitting at his study, and it gained the attention of his visitors, providing a nice subject of conversation for the rest of the day. 

“If you are to stay you will need a name” he explained to the dwarfling whose eyes were still glued to the many different names and dates on the wall. “Why don’t you see if there’s one here that you like? Take your time, I will check on our cookies in the meantime” he said softly and left a now very curious dwarfling as he made his way back to the kitchen. When he came back Thorin was standing on a chair, attentively reading the names of Bilbo’s Took ancestors with a look of concentration on his face. The hobbit smiled and came to stand beside him. 

“So, is there any name you like?” he asked, watching the dwarfling’s eyes light up with excitation. Thorin nodded enthusiastically and pointed to a name way up in the genealogy. 

“Bandobras Took? Oh dear, I’m sorry but you can’t have this name” Bilbo said with a chuckle. “He is considered as a hero amongst hobbits, some may or may not approve of what he did, after all he was no ordinary hobbit, but no one would even think of naming a child after him. Maybe there’s another one that you like? There are so many” he said, honestly surprised that a dwarfling who knew nothing of hobbits and had probably never heard of the great Bullroarer Took would spontaneously choose his name amongst the many others .He let his eyes wander over the numerous names, smiling to himself as every now and then a name would catch his eye, reminding him of certain memories he had of his relatives, even the most distant cousins, and he didn’t notice that the little dwarf was now pointing to another name not far from the legendary Bullroarer Took. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a little voice struggling to read the name.

“Isen…grim?” Thorin said hesitantly, looking at Bilbo for approval.

“Isengrim was a rather common name in the Took family” Bilbo began to say, and as every other hobbit a single name triggered him to talk on lengths on said ancestor, on this case ancestors, and he was just about to start with the first Isengrim in the Took genealogy when it suddenly dawned on him that the little dwarf had just made a choice.

“This is how you want to be named?” he said incredulously, watching the dwarfling nodding frantically, a big grin on his face.

“Very well, this will be your name then” Bilbo said smiling, relief washing over him. Finally the little dwarf had decided to talk. Thorin jumped down from the stool and ran to him, beaming. 

“Does this mean that I can stay with you until I find my family again?” he said his eyes shining with hope.

“Of course you can stay, well for the time being at least, and I promise I will do my best to help you find your family again. Now come, it’s almost time for elevensies, let’s see if the cookies are ready to be eaten.”

Thorin ran by his side and took his hand, following him back to the kitchen.

“What’s elevensies?” he asked, making the hobbit chuckle. 

“You will see, little one. I will show you” he replied. 

The little dwarf had been at his home for barely a couple of hours and he was already starting to affect him. Bilbo would never admit it but he had been feeling lonely ever since his parents’ death, even though there wasn’t a single day without either someone coming to visit him or himself going out for a walk or stopping by one of his friends or relatives for a cup of tea. He had never complained about still being a bachelor either, but as much as he would reprimand his turbulent nephews and nieces for being too loud and making a mess in his house and his garden there was no doubt that he loved children and enjoyed their presence. As much as this little dwarf was intriguing, Bilbo couldn’t say that he was unhappy that he was here. He now had someone to take care of, and he would be damned if he didn’t try his best to do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for you kuddos and bookmarks! I hope you enjoy the next part!

Chapter2

Thorin spent most of his first day in Bag End staring out of the small windows, watching attentively every creature passing by. Hobbits, it seems they were called. Bilbo wasn’t too keen on letting him go out, not until he had gained some strength back, and not until the other hobbits were informed that Bilbo had taken in a lost dwarfling. That one was something Bilbo wasn’t looking forward to, nor did he know how to make it known without sounding like a complete fool. He wasn’t sure how most hobbits would react to Thorin’s presence, he wasn’t even sure yet of his own reaction.

So far Bilbo had only talked to Hamfast Gamgee and his wife, but only because his little dwarf needed some clothes, and he knew he could trust the Gamgees. He had ended up with a handful of children clothes which he was now busy sorting, putting away those who wouldn’t fit, and making a neatly folded pile with the ones that were just the right size for Thorin. Luckily there were enough of these for the time being, and at least Thorin had something else to wear than his ruined clothes, which Bilbo had promptly thrown away. There was also a small golden chain with a beautiful engraved pendant, and a matching golden bracelet engraved with strange runes. Bilbo was intrigued by these, and couldn’t help but wonder what the runes meant. He searched and searched through his books but it seemed that the dwarves’ language was a very secret and private matter. They would not teach it to any strangers, so there was no way for a hobbit to be able to decipher it, except it he met another dwarf who was willing to translate it to him, but that was very unlikely to happen. 

From what Bilbo knew or discovered in books the necklace probably bore the mark of the dwarfling’s family, but then again that would be of no use to find the child’s parents. The only indication Bilbo had were that judging from the golden jewelry the boy wore and the intricate embroidered designs on what was left of his torn clothes the dwarfling must belong to a rich family, probably wealthy merchants or maybe even nobility. 

The hobbit was snapped out of his thoughts by the bell ringing. Frowning he laid the rest of the clothes on the table and went to open the door. He was surprised to find Rose Proudfoot standing there with a big smile on her lips and a big basket full of clothes in her arms.

“Good afternoon Mister Baggins” she greeted joyfully. “I’ve heard that you are in need of children clothes, so I thought I’d drop by and offer some help” she said motioning with her head towards the basket in her hands.

Sure, bring some clothes to have a chance to take a look at the little dwarf, Bilbo thought but he thanked her, politely took her basket and invited her inside. He didn’t like that the news were already spreading, soon he would have all Hobbiton lined up at his door eager to see the little dwarf like he was some rare beast on display. The thought made him shudder and he made a mental note to find a way to avoid this situation at all costs. The poor child was already traumatized by whatever had happened that he had ended up alone in the Shire, and Bilbo would make sure that nothing else would come to trouble him. 

Speaking of trouble, Rose Proudfoot had noticed little Thorin and was gently talking to him while the young dwarf stared at her, as still as a statue, unsure of what to do. She crouched down in front of him, a smile plastered to her face, and held out her empty hands for the child to see.

“What do we have here?” she said tilting her head slightly to the side, a joyful glint in her eyes.

“Nothing” Thorin replied, staring confusedly at the empty hands. She made a show of looking down at her own hands, looking surprised to find nothing there, then she closed both hands into fists and blew on them. When she opened them again each hand held a cookie. Thorin looked at her with wide surprised eyes, his face splitting into a huge smile at the sight of the cookies.

“How did you do that?” he asked curiously.

“It’s magic” she replied, winking at him and handing him the cookies. The dwarfling took both and instantly stuffed one into his mouth. The hobbit lass ruffled his hair playfully, and surprisingly enough Thorin ler her do so. Bilbo watched the scene bewildered, so far the little dwarf had refused to let him touch his hair, even to allow him to comb it and put some order into the tangled mane. 

“Now let’s take a look at those clothes, let’s see if there’s something that you like in here” the hobbit lass said as she rose to her feet in a swift graceful motion.

“I’m not sure he’ll be interested, but I can help you sort them” Bilbo said, remembering all too well that Thorin had declined to join him when he had gone through the clothes given by the Gamgees. But Thorin trotted to where Rose stood and held her hand, happily chewing down the second cookie as he walked alongside her to where the basket had been deposited. She took out a small blue shirt and held it in front of the child, marveling at how the color matched his eyes and how it seemed to be the perfect size. The little dwarf nodded and climbed on a stool, peering inside the basked. 

“There are so many!” he exclaimed happily.

“Yes, I didn’t know what size you needed so I took a lot of them so that we can choose what fit and what doesn’t. I’m sure we will find quite a few things that you will like” she said taking out a pair of trousers, urging the little dwarf to try it on. 

Bilbo watched them with a frown. The hobbit lass had been there only for a few minutes and she had already befriended the little dwarf and gaining her trust while he and Thorin were still walking on eggshells around each other, slowly learning to know each other. It was unfair that he would like her so fast, she wasn’t the one who found him, took him home and fed him, he thought his frown deepening. Then he shrugged and went to make some tea and get something edible to offer to their guest. 

He was making his way back when he suddenly froze midway in the corridor. Thorin was laughing. Intrigued he walked the rest of the way to the living room and found Rose Proudfoot with a way too little hat on her head and an equally small scarf around her neck, making silly faces and ridiculous dance moves while the dwarf child seemed unable to stop laughing, the sound so sweet to Bilbo’s ears. His grip on the plate he was holding tightened. Was he really that bad with children? Why had it taken so long until Thorin started to talk when all she needed was a short moment to make him laugh like that? 

***  
“He is rather cute for a little dwarf” Rose Proudfoot said smiling as she and Bilbo were having tea and biscuits while little Thorin played with Bilbo’s cards near the fire. The little dwarf obviously had no idea how the game was played but he was content to make up his own rules and seemed happy to sit in front of the fireplace lining up cards on the carpet.

“It was very nice of you to take him in” she added smiling at Bilbo before taking a sip of her tea.

“Well I didn’t have much of a choice” Bilbo replied sighing. “But it’s only until I can find someone else to take care of him.”

“What do you mean?” the hobbit lass exclaimed, eyes huge in shock. “He told me that you promised him he could stay with you, you can’t change your mind now!”

“He is a dwarf, he can’t stay here!” Bilbo said, quickly checking to make sure the young dwarf hadn’t overheard him. “Of course I’m willing to help, but I can’t do this alone” he said lowering his voice a bit. “I have no experience with children, especially not with dwarves! I can’t keep him here forever! He will stay until I can either find his parents or someone else who can take him in, that’s the best I can do” he concluded, crossing his arms over his chest. The young hobbit lass didn’t seem impressed.

“What if you can’t find his parents?” she whispered, leaning over the table so that Bilbo could hear her. “I mean, you found him all alone and lost and he refuses to talk about what happened to him or where he comes from. What if something happened to his parents?”

The words hit Bilbo like a slap in the face. Of course Rose was right, it was a possibility that made perfect sense. He had stubbornly refused to think that the little dwarf might be an orphaned child but the more he thought about it the more it seemed like the perfect explanation. A feeling of guilt immediately spread in his chest as he turned his gaze to the boy still playing cards totally oblivious to the two hobbit whispering to each other.

“I’m sorry but I can’t just adopt him and raise him” he said in a sigh.

“No one said you had to” she replied with a shrug. “But you can’t let him down or act as if you never met him, because he is here and in need of assistance, and if you can’t give him that no one will” she said with a deep sigh. Bilbo stared silently into his cup of tea, wondering why such a thing had to happen to him of all people. Surely there must be many other hobbits who would be better at taking care of a child? Well, if they would accept a dwarf child, he thought and sighed again before emptying his cup and placing it on the table.

***  
“It hurts” Thorin complained while trying to wriggle his hair out of Bilbo’s hands.

“It wouldn’t hurt if you would just sit still and let me comb your hair” Bilbo replied, cursing under his breath as he came over yet another stubborn knot. Why did dwarves had to have such long, unruly thick manes instead of the simple curly mop of hair all hobbits had?

“You’re pulling too hard” Thorin said with a pout.

“You were the one who asked me to braid it, so stop whining” Bilbo said obviously annoyed at both the little dwarf’s constant complaining and his hair’s stubbornness to simply give in to his ministrations. 

“I wanted you to braid it like Miss Rose did, not rip off half of my hair” Thorin replied, wriggling uncomfortably on his chair, his pout deepening.

“Well I have no idea how she managed to braid it at all with all these knots in here” Bilbo said in a huff. Of course Rose Proudfoot had beaten him to be the first allowed to touch the little dwarf’s hair, playfully braiding a few strands together before Thorin made a show of running out of her reach, shaking his hair wildly until the braids came undone. He would then approach her again with that innocent look of his, sit down next to her until she started playing with his hair again. Somehow he had seemed to enjoy it with her, and Bilbo couldn’t understand why it didn’t work when it was him.

After some more struggle Bilbo finally managed to put some order into the little dwarf’s hair and pulled it back into a single braid. He took a step back and admired his work, proud of himself. Thorin looked at his reflection in the mirror skeptically, the little pout back on his face.

“That is a funny looking braid” he said tugging lightly on it.

“There’s nothing wrong with this braid” Bilbo snorted, slightly disappointed that his hard work would get criticism instead of praise. “And stop pulling on it, you will ruin it! Now come, we’d better get a move on or we will not be back in time for lunch” he said putting the comb aside and moved to get his coat. Thorin jumped down from the stool he had been sitting on and ran to get his boots. He grabbed one of the coats given by the neighbors and happily followed Bilbo out of the house. Today he was finally allowed to go out and he couldn’t wait to explore the surroundings and see new faces. 

The pantry was practically empty by now and Bilbo reluctantly had to leave to get some food. He didn’t really fancy the thought of bringing the little dwarf to the market and be the center of everyone’s curious gazes, but there was no way he could leave Thorin alone in his house either. However he couldn’t help but smile as he watched the little dwarf trotting happily beside him, holding on tightly to his hand. 

Much to Bilbo’s dismay the market was full and he hurried from store to store, buying what was needed as quickly as possible. He tightened his grip on Thorin’s hand and wrapped an arm around him protectively every time the poor little dwarf was nearly tripped over. There were also a few Men, which wasn’t unusual; hobbits were the best when it came to growing vegetables, fruits or even flowers and many Men came from Bree especially for a chance to buy fresh salads or potatoes. Some of them were smiths who made the best of the opportunity to sell some of their work. Hobbits had no use for weapons but they were more than happy to buy new gardening tools or kitchen knives as they had no smiths amongst their kin, and it was precisely while walking by such a store that Bilbo remembered that he had broken one of his old gardening tools a few weeks ago and still needed a new one.

He stopped by the shop and gazed at the many different gardening tools, thinking back to one or another which could also use a replacement while Thorin stared in awe at the tall Man. If he thought hard enough he could vaguely remember having met members of the tall folk before, but it had been a while since he had last seen one of them so close.

“Can I help you little Sir?” the smith said with a big smile. “Maybe you are in need of gardening tools? It seems you are lucky today, you came just at the right moment, for it seems I have the perfect thing for you!”

With these words he pulled out a brown box and opened it proudly, his smile widening as Bilbo stared at the five shiny tools with great interest. Then his gaze stopped on the price and he frowned.

“These are interesting, but they’re too expensive” he said shaking his head.

“They surely are not cheap, but there are five of these, and they are made of the best iron! You couldn’t wish for finer tools, I sell many of these every day to your kin and I’ve had nothing but praise about them!”

Bilbo sighed and resigned himself to the high price, after all it was better to buy tools of good quality than cheaper ones that would break after a few uses. He already had his wallet out when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“These are not made of iron” Thorin said looking bewildered. “Can’t you see? These here are iron” he said pointing to a row of big shovels standing at the back of the shop. Bilbo frowned and looked up at the Man, who only laughed.

“You should teach your son to hold his tongue” he said crossing his arms across his chest. “But I will forgive him because of course such a young child cannot be expected to know the difference between quality and cheap metal.”

And you obviously can’t tell a hobbit from a dwarf, Bilbo thought with a snort when the Man mentioned that Thorin was his son, although to be honest it was easy to mistake the dwarfling for a hobbit child now that he was wearing hobbit clothes. 

“But it is no iron!” Thorin said again, sounding more desperate after the man’s harsh comment.

“I think he is right” Bilbo said slowly, and the man chuckled and was about to reply but the hobbit held out his hand to silence him. “In case you haven’t noticed, this little one is a dwarf” he said affectionately ruffling Thorin’s hair. “Don’t you know that dwarves can recognize every metal and gem at first glance? It’s a well-known fact” he said putting his hands on his hips, holding the man’s gaze with a satisfied smile. 

“I think you are trying to scam me, mister, by selling me things of poor quality for such a high price” the hobbit said raising his voice, watching with delight how nearby customers turned to look at them, intrigued. The smith paled and was starting to sweat. 

“Look, I give you these at half their prize”, he said pushing the box with the tools towards Bilbo, “and I give you a box of seeds of your choice for free. Now isn’t that a good deal?”

“No, no, I want real iron” Bilbo said shaking his head. “You can keep these, I don’t want any tools that would break at first use, especially not at this price” he said raising his voice even more. The man was looking frantic now as he removed a few fancy looking tools from other shelves and handed them to Bilbo.

“Here, I give you these six for the price of only two of them” he said in a rushed whisper. “Please don’t cause a commotion, I have a family to feed and I need the money, please don’t scare all the customers away!”

Bilbo turned to Thorin for approval, and he nodded with a smile, for these tools were indeed iron of good quality.

“Then we have a deal” Bilbo finally told the man who let out a sigh of relief. “But don’t forget the free box of seeds” the hobbit reminded him with a grin. 

***

Bilbo and Thorin walked back to Bag End with their arms full of their purchases and big grins on their faces.

“Please, oh please don’t scare my customers away!” Bilbo said mimicking the smith’s voice while the dwarfling howled with laughter.

“This is real iron! This is real iron!” Thorin shrieked in a high-pitched voice, adding his own imitation of a shaking, sweating man while Bilbo chuckled and shook his head. Their loud banter and laughs got them a few curious looks but neither of them seemed to really notice and they were still laughing when they reached Bilbo’s home.

“You know what, since you were very helpful today I will offer you a deal” Bilbo said as he put all his packages down on the table. Thorin looked up at him with eyes gleaming with excitement. “Since you know everything about metal you will teach me how to tell them apart, and I will teach you everything about gardening and growing a decent garden” he said holding up the shiny new tools. “How about we start right away? We have new seeds to plant” he said to the little dwarf who nodded frantically, beaming.

They gathered all the tools necessary for their task and set to work immediately. Bilbo showed Thorin how to hold the tools and delicately put the seeds in holes, covering them together with earth. Then they watered them and once the watering cans were empty Thorin ran to fill them by the sink while Bilbo caught himself watching the little dwarf with an affectionate smile. He suddenly remembered how heavy the cans were when full of water and frowned at himself, it already took him a lot of effort to carry one so there was no way the dwarfling could lift it. He was about to join Thorin to help him when the little dwarf emerged carrying both watering cans with a smile on his face. Bilbo stared at him dumbfounded, surely he had to be imagining things? The dwarfling dropped both watering cans at Bilbo’s feet and the hobbit yelped as a few drops of water splashed on his feet. 

“You surely are a strong one” Bilbo said scratching his head in disbelief. 

“Not heavy” the little dwarf replied with a shrug, and went off to play a bit farther away in the garden. Bilbo shook his head at him but shrugged too and resumed his work alone; there wasn’t much left to be done and he couldn’t blame the little dwarf if he was already bored with planting seeds, it was probably much less of a natural thing to do for his kin than for hobbits.

Bilbo stood up and stretched, looking proudly at his work with a smile. He already couldn’t wait to see the little plants grow, but that would take a little while, he reminded himself with a sigh. He gathered his tools and was about to walk back inside when he spotted Thorin happily digging holes all over his garden.

“Oh no, someone please tell me that this isn’t happening!” he exclaimed and dropped all of his tools, running to where the little dwarf was sitting.

“What do you think you are doing here young one? Oh no, look at my carrots! All ruined! And my salads!” He shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the battlefield that his garden had been turned into.

“I only wanted to dig a tunnel” Thorin said lowering his gaze guiltily, blushing at Bilbo’s disapproving tone. 

“Of course, that’s what dwarves do, right? Digging tunnels, especially in a poor hobbit’s garden” Bilbo said shaking his head again.

“I’m sorry” Thorin said quietly. Bilbo looked at the huge pleading blue eyes and let out a sigh, his anger already half forgotten. 

“I accept your apology, but on two conditions” Bilbo said sternly. The little dwarf looked up at him, fidgeting nervously, wondering what his punishment would be. “First, I want you to promise that you will not do something like this again. A garden is like a sanctuary, you can't just go and ruin everything, I want you to understand that. If you want to dig tunnels you first come ask me and we’ll find a suitable spot for that. And secondly, you will help me put everything back in order.”

The dwarfling nodded sheepishly and obediently picked up the shovel to help fix the mess he had made.

“Will we be done in time for afternoon tea?” he asked timidly, making the hobbit chuckle.

“I hope so” Bilbo replied. “You surely pick up good habits fast” he said with another chuckle as he crouched down and began to sort out the less damaged carrots to see how much could be saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued...  
> Comments are welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Thorin is growing up, and finds out that it's not always easy to be the only dwarf in the Shire...

Chapter 3

Bilbo’s face split into a huge smile as he opened his door to find the four matching toothy grins of his little nephews and nieces.

“Good morning uncle Bilbo!” They all said simultaneously, making him chuckle.

“Good morning children” he replied smiling. “You are right in time for elevensies” he said, surprised once more at how the young Took children always seemed to be around when he was baking his famous scones. He was beginning to wonder if they had a special radar for that.

“Thank you uncle Bilbo, but we were wondering if we could-“

“We want to see the dwarf!” a small hobbit girl squealed happily, bouncing excitedly up and down, totally oblivious to the fact that she had just interrupted her older brother.

“Bella, mother said not to be rude! You are being impolite!” young Saradoc said sending a reproachful glare to his sister who blushed and stared at her feet in embarrassment. “Can we play with Isengrim?” he asked Bilbo with his most charming smile, hoping to impress him with remembering the dwarfling’s name. 

“He is busy right now” Bilbo answered, watching the children’s faces fall with disappointment. “But I will make sure to ask him if he wants to join you four when he is finished” he added quickly, causing a concert of happy giggles and squeals.

“Thank you uncle Bilbo! We’ll be by the river!” Saradoc said with another of his brightest smiles and he ushered his younger sister out, his two cousins following him waving joyfully at Bilbo who waved back, shaking his head at their exaggerated excitement. He closed the door and walked back inside, expecting to find Thorin where he had left him, frowning when he spotted the empty stool and abandoned pencils on the table. The little dwarf was standing on his tiptoes his face glued to the window, his eyes following the four hobbit children, watching them run down to the little river with great interest.

“Do they really want to play with me? Can I join them?” he asked his gaze still glued to the window.

“Of course you can” Bilbo answered with a smile. “But you will finish your writing lesson first.”

The little dwarf pouted but obediently walked back to the table, picking up his pencil, looking up at Bilbo expectantly.

“Now where were we?” the hobbit asked, picking up the sheet of paper he had left on his chair.

“Peel, core, and slice apples. Mix apple slices with sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Place apple mixture in pie shell. Place second pie crust on top and form to the edges of the pie plate” Thorin said reading the last sentences he had written.

“Oh yes, that’s right. We’re almost done then. Are you ready to continue?” he said watching the dwarfling nod, his hand holding the pencil ready resume his writing.

“Cut slits in the top crust to allow for steam to release in oven. Bake for approximately 30 to 40 minutes, until pie is fully baked and apples are tender.” Bilbo read out slowly, waiting patiently until finished to write the sentence down, a look of pure concentration on his face.

“Done!” he said happily, handing out his paper to Bilbo with a proud smile.

“Good, let me check this then” Bilbo said sitting down in his chair, going through the whole apple pie recipe once more, checking attentively each of the words etched on the paper in Thorin’s beautiful round handwriting for any mistake. When he found none he set the sheet down on the table, looking at the little dwarf with a satisfied smile.

“Not a single mistake, as usual” he declared finally to a beaming dwarfling.

“Can I go play then?” he asked excitedly.

“Don’t you want to wait until the pie is cooked? I thought you’d like to eat some after writing down the whole thing” he said slightly disappointed that Thorin wouldn’t wait with him near the oven as he usually did, but then he could hardly blame him for wanting to go out play with other children. The poor little dwarf had been kept inside for days, bored with nothing much to do besides practicing his writing, learning how to cook and helping Bilbo cleaning the house.

“I will eat it later” Thorin said already putting on his boots.

“But you eat so little” Bilbo complained, frowning. Sure, the little dwarf ate reasonably at breakfast, lunch and dinner, but he barely ate anything during the other meals, which worried Bilbo even though the little boy looked healthy enough. Maybe dwarves had different eating habits than hobbits, Bilbo thought with a shrug, and gave Thorin permission to go out join the other children.

“But be careful not to go near the water” he told Thorin who was already running out of the door. “And be nice to them! And don’t let them get you into trouble” he shouted after him, knowing all too well that his nephews and nieces, especially on the Took side, had a special talent for getting themselves -and ocasionally others- into embarrassing situations. But the little dwarf was already too far to hear him and Bilbo watched him run with a warm smile on his face.

The hobbit busied himself cleaning up the rest of the kitchen tools he and Thorin had used when baking their cake, then he sat down and read a bit while keeping an eye on the oven. He couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous about the dwarfling’s first encounter with hobbit children and he sincerely hoped that they would accept him into their little group. When the cake was baked and put on the windowsill to cool down he could wait no more and decided to take a walk to the river to check on how the children were doing. 

He kept his distance and tried not to be too obvious so as not to make Thorin think that he was spying on him, which he most definitely was, he reminded himself with a sigh. He was surprised and relieved to find all four children sitting on the grass, Thorin playing with the two other boys and their wooden toys while the little girls collected flowers, happily singing together. Bilbo watched with a tender smile as little Bella dumped some flowers in Thorin’s lap and proceeded to show him how to make flower crowns. However the little dwarf had more interest playing with her elder brother’s wooden figures and she soon got bored and gave up. 

Then her interest was picked up by the dwarfling’s unusually long, thick black mane and she crawled up behind him, untying the ribbon that held his hair back in a braid with one swift move. She let out a happy squeal as the long black curls freely cascaded down the little dwarf’s back and she picked up the abandoned flowers, deciding to braid them in Thorin’s hair instead. Her sister soon joined her and Bilbo couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the sight of the two young girls methodically putting flowers in his little dwarf’s hair. 

Every couple of minutes, a half annoyed, half playful Thorin shook his head wildly, causing the two girls to yell out in disappointment. They would then very seriously scold him and tell him to hold still before resuming their task of braiding the fallen flowers back into his hair. The dwarfling would patiently let them do as they pleased until he had enough again and destroyed their work once more. The more he did this, the more the girls would laugh and stubbornly start their work anew. Bilbo let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding; his little dwarf had just been accepted amongst hobbit children.

***  
The next few months were probably the happiest times in Thorin’s life; he now had his own little group of friends with which he spent most of his time playing, bathing in the river when it was warm enough, chasing each other or collecting snail shells, a game at which he excelled, and more than once did he come home exhausted, his pants muddy, holding in his hands a necklace made out of several snail shells which he proudly presented to a puzzled Bilbo, who would promptly usher the dwarfling into the bathroom, scolding him for making a mess out of himself. He would then shake his head and sigh at the strange necklace, but when Thorin came out of the bathroom wearing clean clothes he would always spot the gift he had just given Bilbo hanging on the wall right next to the window. 

Frequently the little dwarf would also bring Bilbo an armful of juicy, bright red apples which he had ‘found in some field’. This was even more of an embarrassing gift for the hobbit who recognized all too well old Pansy Bolger’s apples, for he himself had been caught more than once sitting on one of the lowest apple tree branches happily munching on a fruit with his cousins. Of course he never mentioned this to Thorin and proceeded to properly lecture him on how it was inappropriate to take apples without asking first for permission. Although all in all the hobbit wasn’t unhappy, old Bolger’s apples always tasted the best in a pie and he would always end up thanking Thorin again in the evening as they feasted on one of Bilbo’s famous apple pies. The little dwarf would giggle happily, beaming at the hobbit he had grown to consider as his adopted father.

The only unhappy moment for Thorin came when one day he found that his boots had mysteriously shrunk and that his feet could no longer fit in them. He ran to Bilbo whining about that strange event and the hobbit patiently explained that his boots were still the exact same size they had always been, and that Thorin was simply growing up. The logical explanation, seemed to calm the little dwarf down but he was still reluctant to throw his boots away, stubbornly keeping them on their usual spot next to his bed even if he could no longer wear them.

However he insisted that Bilbo ought to buy him new ones, which had the hobbit scratching his head in confusion since he had no idea where he could possibly find new shoes. Hobbits never wore any and there was no way he could find any in the Shire; maybe they would be lucky enough to find someone who could make shoes for the dwarfling in Bree but it was too far away and certainly not a place for a respectable hobbit, let alone for a child. The little dwarf listened attentively to Bilbo as he spoke, then shrugged and decided that since no one in the Shire wore any shoes he himself could walk barefoot too. It was a little uncomfortable the first few days as dwarves didn’t have thick soles on their feet like hobbits did but eventually he got used to it and wandered around barefoot all day like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Thorin was growing up fast, too fast for Bilbo’s liking. As much as he enjoyed sewing new clothes for his son he was deeply distressed to find out that the little dwarf was outgrowing them within a couple of months and he had trouble catching up, always needing to make more and more new clothes. He had made a coat out of leftover fabric he had used for his own, spending countless hours making a coat exactly matching his own except the little embroidery on the front pocket which instead of his usual initials bore an intricate design of little Isengrim Baggins’ initials. Thorin had worn it proudly for nearly six months, and they had both been rather sad when it was clear that it wouldn’t fit the young dwarf anymore. However it wasn’t thrown away and Thorin kept it displayed in his bedroom beside his old dwarven boots.

Thorin was almost as tall as Bilbo when he began to complain about his chin itching. Bilbo brushed it off as his skin being too dry and gave him soothing cream to put on it. He was rather shocked when Thorin emerged from the bathroom the next day with a fluffy little stubble on his chin. He almost kicked himself for forgetting that Thorin was indeed a dwarf and no hobbit, and that this had been bound to happen sooner or later. It was becoming harder to ignore with each day passing as he was growing in built and developing very un-hobbit like muscles and broad shoulders, but somehow Bilbo’s paternal love for him only grew stronger and he warmly congratulated the young dwarf on the rapidly growing beard. Thorin smiled proudly at the words but as much as he liked how his newly grown stubble looked it also made him uncomfortable making him feel too different amongst the hairless faces of other hobbits. He even went as far as trying to get rid of it but the more he shaved it the more it would grow back faster and thicker, so he gave up and decided to keep it short and neatly trimmed instead so as not to stand out too much.

***  
Bilbo growled and cursed under his breath as the bell rang for the fourth time that day. He almost rolled his eyes at the sight of young Angelica Boffin dressed up in a fancy red dress, her hair neatly cascading in graceful blonde locks over her shoulders.

“Good afternoon mister Baggins” she said with a polite smile. “Is Isengrim here? I would like to invite him for a walk, it’s such a beautiful day!” she said gesturing to the bright sun shining outside. Here comes one more, Bilbo thought with a sigh.

“I’m sorry but he’s out running errands for me, he will not be back until this evening I’m afraid” he replied a little stiffly.

“Oh, too bad. I will come back later then. Please make sure to tell your son that I came by” she said with a wave of her hand. Bilbo politely assured her that he would before bidding her a good day and he closed the door with a loud sigh.

“That’s it, I’ve had enough of this. You’re not getting away with this that easily” he mumbled to himself as he marched resolutely towards Thorin’s room.

“This is the last time I’m doing this” he said loudly as he barged into his son’s room, finding the young dwarf sitting at his desk, an open book in front of him, various papers spread out next to it, all covered with his hasty handwriting.

“What are you talking about?” Thorin asked with his best feigned look of complete innocence. Unfortunately for him that look didn’t work now as well as it did on his round childish face a few years back.

“You know fully well what I’m talking about” Bilbo said annoyance evident in his voice. “Next time one of these lasses comes asking for you, you are dealing with them, understood?”

“But father, I have no idea what I am supposed to tell them!” Thorin exclaimed with an annoyed sigh, dropping his pencil on the study. “I have no interest in spending time with them complimenting them about their dresses and hair for hours until they let me hold their hand! I mean what’s the point? I’m not like Saradoc or the others, I don’t want to get involved in those things!”

“Well you will have to deal with it, whether you want it or not” Bilbo said sternly as Thorin rolled his eyes. “If you don’t want to play the irresistible seducer like your friend Saradoc then it’s your choice, but you are the one who will tell that to the next lass who comes here looking for you. I was your age once too and I would have never dared to ask my father to talk to a girl for me, and stop rolling your eyes at me!” he exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips to add more to the disapproving father look.

“Fine, I’ll do it then” Thorin replied with a sigh, lowering his head in defeat.

“That’s my good boy. Speaking of your friend Saradoc, how come you didn’t go with him to the market this morning?”

“No particular reason, I just wanted to be alone” Thorin answered shrugging. But Bilbo refused to drop the subject, staring at the young dwarf intently, waiting for him to speak.

“We are not interested in the same things anymore” Thorin said quietly. “It was nice to be friends when we were children but we don’t have much in common anymore” he said closing his book and putting his papers in a neat pile on the desk.

“I see. Is this a new book?” Bilbo asked peering curiously at the cover. The young dwarf nodded and handed it to him.

“So that’s why you prefer to go to the market alone,” Bilbo said with a little smile, “so that you can look for books about dwarves and their culture.”

“The others don’t have much interest for that, they just find it strange that someone would even bother to learn anything about dwarves” Thorin said looking a little bit sad.

“I know that feeling” Bilbo said gently laying a comforting hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “I’ve been called strange many times too for buying books about other cultures, or going out in the forest with the hope to see elves. Although in your case it’s perfectly legitimate that you would want to learn more about dwarves” The hobbit said smiling fondly at him. For a few years now the young dwarf had suddenly developed an interest in learning more about his own kin, which Bilbo had always encouraged, however he couldn’t do much to help him since he only had in his possession two books about dwarves, and even those probably weren’t very accurate since they had been written by Men and told rather harshly of dwarves and their customs. 

Thorin was beginning to feel lonely ever since his body had started evolving, transforming him into a full grown dwarf. His difference seemed to attract a lot of attention from the hobbit lasses, which annoyed Thorin especially since his friends seemed to avoid him even more because of that, angry and jealous that the young dwarf got so much attention. It hurt him, and becoming so unlike the others made him feel uncomfortable and confused. Wearing his usual hobbit clothes didn’t help making him look like a hobbit anymore, on the contrary it seemed even more odd now, and he had settled for more dwarvish clothes –at least what he and Bilbo could come up with that they hoped would look less hobbitish and more like what a dwarf would normally wear. He had changed his hairstyle too, giving up his usual ponytail or single braid for two matching braids behind his ears, the rest of his mane falling freely over his shoulders and down his back. It was as close as he could get from the drawing he had seen of dwarves in his books, but yet he felt torn. 

He knew he wasn’t a hobbit, he had always known it and accepted it as long as he was rather popular amongst the others and loved like one of their own kin, but now hobbits only stared at him with glances mixed of curiosity, amusement, disapproval, and more rarely disgust. These glances hurt him, and although he liked the Shire and its habitants many a night did he lie in his bed fully awake, wondering where he fit and just what he was, neither belonging to the folk who adopted him or to the one he was born to and of whom he had no memory at all. 

“Why don’t you go set the table, dinner will be ready soon” Bilbo said gently, offering a welcome distraction from his melancholic thoughts. The dwarf nodded and left to do as he was told while Bilbo stared with a sigh at the notes Thorin had taken from his books, seemingly about the seven kingdoms of dwarves, writing down names that meant nothing to him. He knew Thorin wasn’t happy, it pained him to see him becoming more and more lonely, and it hurt even more that he was totally helpless and unable to come up with any idea that might make his son feel better.

Sighing again, this time because he had spotted old rumpled clothes lying all around the room Bilbo shook his head and began to gather everything, cursing under his breath at his son’s lack of order, especially when it came to his clothes. He was picking up a dirty shirt when he spotted a white cloth under the bed. He pulled on it, frowning at the unexpected weight. This obviously wasn’t some forgotten material, it looked like something was carefully wrapped inside. 

Intrigued the hobbit slowly unfolded the cloth, letting out a loud gasp of horror as he saw what was inside. With a shaky hand he pulled out a small bow, along with a matching quiver full of arrows, and a long white dagger. He held back a strangled scream of indignation and grabbed the whole package, anger boiling in his veins. He marched to the kitchen and dropped the weapons on the tiled floor, making the young dwarf jump at the unexpected noise. Thorin flinched slightly at the hobbit’s obvious anger and he looked away, blushing in embarrassment at having been caught, wondering how he would manage to get out of this one.

“Do you have an explanation for this?” Bilbo asked his voice surprisingly calm.

“I’m sorry” Thorin said quietly, his gaze focused on the arrows scattered all over the floor.

“Oh I’m sure you are” Bilbo said with a humorless grin. “What were you thinking bringing weapons in my home without my permission?” he asked sternly.

“I asked you if you would allow me to have one, but you refused” Thorin said looking up to hold the hobbit’s gaze.

“Yes I did, and you know exactly why since we’ve had this discussion before. Hobbits don’t need any weapon, we’re not some savages who run around killing people for pleasure!” Bilbo yelled angrily kicking the quiver who slipped on the floor, landing right at the young dwarf’s feet.

“I’m no hobbit, I’m a dwarf” Thorin said quietly. “And I’m not a child anymore” he added with a little smile. “Besides you know that I would never harm anyone, I have no intention of using these” he said motioning to the discarded weapons on the floor.

“If you don’t plan on using them then why do you need any weapon at all?” Bilbo said with a sigh. 

“Every dwarf has at least one, or he isn’t considered a dwarf” Thorin said remembering how reading those words in one of his books had stung. “I would have preferred an axe or even a sword but these were the best I could find” he added shrugging. 

“An axe or a sword?” Bilbo repeated looking completely horrified. “There is no way one of these will ever enter my home, do you hear me?” he exclaimed waving his finger in the air to mark his point.

“I only wanted to practice a bit with them, I like using a weapon, but I’d never use it on anyone, I promise, I just like to play around with them” the young dwarf said his shoulders slumped in defeat. No matter how he tried to explain it he knew Bilbo would never understand. “I only take them out in the forest when there’s no one around and I always hide them when I carry them so that no one sees anything! Please father, don’t take them away from me” he pleaded quietly, knowing that it was a lost cause.

Bilbo watched him silently for a moment, wondering what he was to do. As much as the sight of weapons frightened him and he didn’t want them anywhere near his son he also couldn’t just throw them away, they seemed to mean a lot to Thorin. The hobbit took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Very well, keep them if you want. But I want you to promise me that you will never use them” Bilbo said with a stern glare.

“No”, Thorin said staring back defiantly. “I’m sorry but I can’t promise you that.”

Bilbo opened his mouth in shock, totally taken aback. Never before had the young dwarf talked back to him like that. He considered him for a moment, his heart racing with the many inner conflicts that were tearing at his mind.

“Fine, have it your way” he said finally. “But I don’t want to even catch a glimpse of these, do you understand me?”

Thorin looked like he wanted to argue but he kept his mouth shut and nodded reluctantly.  
“I will hide them somewhere where you won’t be able to find them” he said bitterly as he bent down to gather his arrows and began to put them all back in the quiver. He heard a deep sigh and felt a hand gently stroking his long black hair.

“I know you hate me for this, but I’m only doing this to protect you” Bilbo said softly. Thorin stilled the moving hand and gently squeezed it.

“I don’t hate you, what I hate is how we can’t seem to understand each other sometimes” he said quietly.

“I don’t think there’s a way to fix that” Bilbo said crouching down next to the dwarf to help him gather his discarded arrows. “I had quite a few misunderstandings with my own father as well” he said with a little smile. “I guess it runs in the family” he added with a chuckle, watching as Thorin smiled back. Only he had his mother to run to after a fight with his father, Bilbo thought with a melancholic sigh. His mother would always understand him better than his father did, while Thorin only had Bilbo, he reminded himself but quickly shook himself out of these sad thoughts as a stranger smell reached his nostrils.

“Oh no, the dinner! I totally forgot about that!” he exclaimed his eyes huge in shock and he raced to the kitchen, all thoughts of either he was good or not at parenting long forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you goes to all those who left kuddos and bookmarks! It means a lot to me, so thank you all!  
> In case you wonder I purposedly changed the aging of dwarves and hobbits, basically in my headcanon dwarves grow up a lot faster than hobbits do,but once they reach adulthood they don't change that much anymore until they reach an older age. To cut a long story short, Thorin grew up very fast within a couple of years while Bilbo is around the same age as we see him in the movie. And for those who have seen the movie at this point in the story Thorin is about the same age as he was in the very beginning of An Unexpected Journey, in the scenes where the dragon attacks his home.
> 
> Anyway thank you for sticking up with this story! Next chapter will be more dwarves and less hobbits, I promise!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin meets Dwalin on a battlefield. Dwalin is intrigued, and Thorin is not impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Dwalin makes his first appearance...   
> This is my first attempt at writing Thorin/Dwalin interaction, I hope you like it!

The Tale of Isengrim Baggins Part 4

Bilbo and Thorin were working in the garden when they first heard a strange, low growling sound. Even more strange was the feeling of the earth shaking beneath their bare feet. Then one of the youngest Bolger sons came running, his face deathly pale.

“Orcs! An army of orcs is coming!” he screamed hysterically. Bell Gamgee let out a panicked yell and ran back inside her home. Bilbo dropped his gardening tools and grabbed Thorin’s arm.

“Get inside, quickly!” he yelled, and they both ran back into their home, immediately locking the door. 

“What are orcs?” Thorin asked staring out of the window, a feeling of dread slowly gaining him as he spotted a black form in the distance. It looked like a group of something, but it was too far to make out what it was exactly.

“Foul creatures from what I’ve heard” Bilbo replied his voice giving away how scared he was. “But there were never any of those in the Shire, I don’t understand why they’re here” he said pacing frantically. “Hopefully we’re safe here”.

Thorin looked at him at these words, wondering just how safe they would be hiding in a hobbit hole, waiting for the enemies to come to kill them, which was probably what was going to happen. The young dwarf suddenly found himself restless, feeling uncomfortable staying inside where the foes could easily trap them or burn down the house. There had to be something he could do, something he could try, he told himself desperately searching for an idea. 

Suddenly he bolted to his room and took his weapons out of their hiding place. It was as if his instinct was telling him to stand up and fight, even though he had no idea how, he didn’t even know what these creatures were or how many there were of them. But staying here and hide wasn’t an option.

Within the blink of an eye he was out of the door, his legs feeling like they suddenly had a life of their own, taking him at full speed towards the enemies. Bilbo watched him horrified.

“Isengrim, where are you going? Come back!” he screamed desperately as his son ran straight to the group of foul beasts. The hobbit stood there as if paralyzed by fear, unable to move or to think. Then he realized what was happening and shook himself out of his trance, grabbed a kitchen knife and bravely followed the dwarf outside. Fear was turning his legs to jelly and he had to fight not to stumble and fall; his son was in danger and he would be damned if we was just going to stay inside his home doing nothing.

Thorin ran to the top of the hill, trying to catch his breath while taking out his bow, aiming his arrow at the first of the group of ugly black beasts. Strangely enough he didn’t felt any fear, only anger at the thought of those beasts ravaging the green fields of the Shire, killing its habitants, killing his own father. He let out a low growl as he released his arrow, cursing as it missed its aim.

He wasted no time and fired another, his eyes widening in shock as it missed the enemies again. He yelled out of frustration, cursing himself for never having been a good archer. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of time to practice, and he never had anyone to show him how to properly use a bow. But even the few times he had indeed practice a bit his aim had been better and he cursed his nerves for making his hands tremble and he tried to clear his mind of the flurry of thought that were assaulting him, desperately trying to hit at least one of the now dangerously close orcs.

He was about to release his arrow when he heard a savage roar and what sounded like a battle cry in an unknown language. His eyes widened in surprise as a large group of shorter, sturdy warriors who lunched themselves at the orc pack. Thorin’s heart leaped at the sight. Dwarves, they had to be dwarves! With renewed determination he shot another arrow, watching as it hit its aim with a deadly precision, piercing the orc’s armor right in the middle of its back. The beast slumped on the ground, dead, in front of a very startled warrior, particularly tall and strong in build, sporting a Mohawk haircut. The dwarf spotted Thorin and their gazes met for a fleeting moment.

The captain of the guard let out a loud roar of rage as he was forced to accept the evidence, his tactic hadn’t worked. The remaining orcs had fled too fast, preventing the small army from encircling them like they had originally planned. He knew little about this land but the vast, neatly organized fields made it obvious that people were living here. What kind of creatures, he did not know, from what he had heard they were called halflings and were a peaceful folk, certainly not the kind of people who deserved to be slaughtered by orcs, the same orcs who were still running because him, the captain, had made a mistake.

It should have been easy to catch up with them before the beasts reached the habited area of this land, but once again nothing went as planned, and the orc pack was nearly upon the first hobbit holes when the dwarves intercepted them. And just when he thought that things couldn’t get any worse he was attacked by two orcs at once, slaying them with his twin battle axes, but spotting the third one a split second too late. 

Instead of delivering what would have been a nasty, if not deadly blow, the orc suddenly dropped dead at Dwalin’s feet. The guard looked around confused, until he spotted a very dwarven-like figure on the top of the hill, bow in hand. The warrior quickly parried a blow from another orc and when he looked up again the figure had disappeared.

It wasn’t until a few moments later that he spotted the same dwarf again, fighting not too far from him. He was tempted to either laugh at the younger dwarf’s obvious lack of techniques or yell at him to watch his back. Instead he launched himself at one orc just in time to avoid the mysterious stranger a stab in the back. The guard captain let out a snort when he noticed that the raven haired dwarf was fighting with only a short dagger, his broken bow laying abandoned a few feet away. With a groan the warrior shoved one of his axes in the stranger’s hand before positioning himself behind him, effectively offering him safety from any attacks coming behind his back.

Thorin was in the middle of the battle before he knew it, his instinct taking over. He managed to land a few arrows before an orc sword broke his bow and he immediately took out his dagger. The young dwarf almost jumped a foot in the air when an axe was suddenly put into his hands and he looked up puzzled to meet the gaze of the same warrior he had briefly seen a few moments before. He offered him a short nod and began slicing his way through the orc pack with the new, more effective weapon.

He didn’t see the blow in time and he held out the axe just in time to avoid having his head cut off but the strength of the blow immediately followed by another one sent him rolling to the floor. He watched with terror filled eyes as the orc launched himself at him and he raised his axe for protection. The next blow never came. Instead a terrified, rage driven hobbit jumped on Thorin’s assailant, effectively knocking him to the ground, and stabbed him with his kitchen knife until the orc moved no more. Bilbo turned to check on Thorin, relieved to see him alive. The young dwarf met his gaze and smiled gratefully at him. 

He was roughly pulled to his feet by the tall warrior who glared at him disapprovingly. Thorin glared back and opened his mouth to say something about his rudeness but the other dwarf yelled at him to watch it, motioning to something behind him. Thorin turned around and parried the blow, killing the orc with one swift motion. However what he didn’t expect was the cry of pain coming from behind him. He turned to find the warrior with the Mohawk sending him a deathly glare while holding his left arm, which was now sporting a long bleeding gash. 

“I told you to watch it!” he growled angrily.

The young dwarf paled, then blushed in embarrassment and turned around expecting to find another enemy, except there was none left. They had won the battle. It left him with a mix of relief, pride and happiness. Bilbo was soon beside him, pale as death, a worried look on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked almost hysterically, letting out a loud sigh of relief when the raven haired dwarf nodded. Thorin let out a sigh of his own at the sight of Bilbo unharmed and offered him a reassuring smile. He wasn’t expecting the big bear hug which was especially surprising coming from a hobbit who was much smaller than he himself was.

“Don’t you ever do something like that again” he heard the hobbit whisper, his embrace tightening even more. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again” he added, the words sounding more like a threat, which made the young dwarf smile. When he was finally released from a worried father’s embrace he spotted the tall warrior nearby, still clutching his arm tightly, a grimace of pain on his face. The wound was bleeding profusely, and Thorin felt a sharp tug of guilt inside him. 

“Do we have any losses?” the dwarf captain asked to one of his soldiers. 

“None, my lord. Two are hurt but the wounds aren’t life threatening.”   
The taller warrior released a sigh of relief and nodded at the soldier, who suddenly spotted the deep gash on his captain’s arm.

“My lord?” he asked hesitantly, his gaze showing worry.

“It’s nothing” he replied hastily. “It’s not even an orc wound” he added sending a glare at Thorin, who lowered his head in shame. 

“Find a place where we can set camp for tonight, we don’t want to disturb the halflings” the captain told the soldier, who nodded and quickly left. 

Thorin carefully approached the tall dwarf, hesitantly handing him his axe back. The warrior took it with a grunt and strapped it on his back along with its twin.

“I’m sorry about this” the younger dwarf said quietly, gesturing to the other’s wounded arm.

“Didn’t know you were on their side” the warrior grunted, prodding a dead orc with the tip of his boot.

“It was an accident” Thorin replied rolling his eyes. “And I apologized for it. What else do you expect me to do?”

“Maybe you can start by thanking me for saving your life a dozen times” the dwarf captain replied. “You really are no good with a weapon.”

“And you have terrible manners” Thorin shot back, blushing deeply. “One of my arrows saved your life too if I remember well, and I am still waiting for your gratitude. Besides it wasn’t even my fight, you should be grateful that I even bothered to join in.” 

“Oh I sure am grateful” the warrior replied with a chuckle. “And I thank you deeply for giving me the occasion to watch your back and making sure your head wasn’t cut off, oh and did I mention how grateful I am for that wonderful little souvenir you left me with?” he said gesturing to his wounded arm. Thorin glared at him as if he was considering murdering him.

“I have wronged you, and I apologize for that” the young dwarf replied surprisingly calmly. “May I offer you a place to stay for the night and a meal? That’s the least I can do” he added the last words quickly before the warrior could decline his offer. 

The dwarf captain seemed to consider the suggestion before he slowly nodded. Bilbo watched the scene with a frown on his face, he didn’t want that brute anywhere near his home, but it would be rude of him to speak his mind now that Thorin had invited him. With a resigned sigh he lead his guest inside.

***

“Where did this orc pack come from?” Bilbo asked as he came back with towels, water and bandages, feigning curiosity but still not trusting that surprisingly tall dwarf. “We don’t see much of these around here usually.”

“We had been hunting them for days” the dwarf guard explained. We tried to ambush them but there were more of them than we had thought, and a few of them managed to get away. We followed them and slayed them just in time it seemed” he said casually as if orcs coming into the Shire, followed by an army of dwarves was nothing unusual.

“And where do you come from?” Thorin asked quietly, sitting down next to the guard and setting to work, cleaning the wound with wet towels.

“Erebor” the taller dwarf replied simply, watching both of his hosts’ eyes widen.

“But that’s very far off to the East” Bilbo exclaimed, amazed and confused. “What are you doing so far away from your home?”

“Scouting, securing roads, hunting down any orcs who cross my path” he replied shrugging. “The king seems to be quite fond of sending away those who do not always agree with him” he added with a melancholic tone in his voice. Both Thorin and Bilbo were wondering what exactly that meant but neither dared to voice the question. “Keep scrubbing like that and there will soon be no skin left” the warrior growled, glaring at Thorin who immediately removed the cloth, glaring back. 

“Get me another towel, it will soon start bleeding again and I need to be able to see what I’m doing when I’m closing the wound.”  
Thorin opened his mouth to reply, not appreciating in the least being addressed with such a harsh tone, but he decided to remain silent for the moment and did as he was told. Bilbo quickly provided the dwarf with his sewing kit and promptly left to make them all some supper. The mere sight of blood made his stomach churn and he wouldn’t be of any help anyway, if the warrior could take care of this himself then he’d be better off in the kitchen doing something he was more skilled at.

The warrior started sewing his wound closed while the younger dwarf helped as best as he could, wiping off the blood to keep the wound clean, watching with great fascination as the guard set to work as if he had done this numerous times before, which he probably had given the many scars he bore on his skin.

“I am Dwalin” the guard finally said in a deep, solemn voice, “son of Fundin. At your service” he added with a short bow of his head.

“Isengrim Baggins, at yours” the younger dwarf replied hesitantly, taken aback by this unusual way of introducing oneself, very different and much more solemn than the usual hobbit greetings.

“That is a most unusual name for a dwarf” Dwalin replied eyeing him with a curious glance in his eyes.

“It is my name” Thorin replied very much annoyed at the other dwarf’s nerve, daring to make fun of his name. “And you should know that it’s inappropriate and very rude to say such things to your host” he hissed. The guard’s face split into a sly smile but he remained silent and finished taking care of his wound. Thorin watching him intently, waiting for him to say something, but when the warrior remained stubbornly silent the young dwarf shrugged and began to gather the bloody towels and discarded needles and thread.

“That is one beautiful pair of blue eyes you have here” Dwalin said suddenly, causing the younger dwarf to look up at him, startled. It wasn’t unusual for him to heard such words, many a hobbit lass had complimented him in a similar manner while trying to flirt him, but it was confused as to why the other dwarf would speak to him like this.

“A very beautiful pair of eyes, shining like two sapphires” the guard added, his smile widening as Thorin stared at him his eyes wide with confusion, therefore giving him the perfect occasion to stare into those blue pools.

“What do you mean by this?” Thorin asked frowning.

“I obviously insulted you, which as you pointed out wasn’t very nice of me. I was hoping to win your forgiveness with a nice compliment” he explained, his smug grin plastered to his face. “By the way, that was a nice show you put on earlier on the battlefield. You did quite well for someone who never had any weapon training.”

“Was it really that obvious?” Thorin asked, blushing lightly at the comment.

“It was” the warrior said with a chuckle. “But you weren’t that bad either. You are a natural fighter, with good instinct. In my opinion you have everything it would take to make a good warrior, too bad you don’t have anyone to teach you some fighting techniques.”

“Hobbits don’t fight, nor do they train with weapons” Thorin replied with a hint of sadness in his voice, which made the other dwarf frown.

“But didn’t you get the normal weapon training, where you come from?” Dwalin asked, confused and intrigued by that strange young dwarf, so different from anyone he had met before.

“I have always lived here, as far as I remember” Thorin replied shrugging. “So no, I never had any chance to practice” he said his gaze landing absent mindedly on the warrior’s tattooed arms.

“These represent all the battles I have been in” the guard said, following the other dwarf’s gaze, amused by the sudden expression of pure amazement on his face.

“Looks like you have been in many battles” Thorin said with no small amount of awe in his voice, which made the other dwarf smile, amused by his dazzled expression.

***

After a copious supper during which the warrior literally pillaged Bilbo’s pantry the hobbit was glad to have the excuse of the late hour to put an end to what had been a long, stressful day. They had been attacked by orcs, his son had almost been killed and then that strange, scary looking dwarf ended up spending the night in his home, his once respectable neatly arranged hobbit hole forced to shelter a dwarf. Bilbo wasn’t happy at all with this, especially since Thorin seemed intrigued by the warrior, stealing furtive glances at him every now and then during supper. Of course he couldn’t really blame the young dwarf, after all it was his first encounter with his own kin. But that didn’t mean that Bilbo shared his adopted son’s point of view, nor did his aversion for the warrior lessen.

Dwalin chuckled quietly as the hobbit ushered him to one of the guests rooms, almost breaking into a run as he left, bolting into his own bedroom and slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. The warrior carefully sat down on the surprisingly small bed and he began to take off his boots, wondering how he would fit in the hobbit sized bed.

The light sound of footsteps made him look up and he had to hold back a chuckle at the sight of the barefoot raven haired dwarf in the doorframe. A dwarf walking around with no boots on was not something he would ever get used to, he thought as his face split into a grin.

“What do you want?” he asked more roughly than he had meant to.

“I wanted to check if you were comfortable enough” the young dwarf said quietly. The warrior let out a snort; it was clear from the first moment they had met that the young dwarf was not used to seeing other dwarves and that for some strange reason he seemed intrigued by the guard.

“Apart from that bed being a couple inches too small all is well” Dwalin replied. “How do you even manage to fit in such a small thing?” he asked curious to know how the younger dwarf, who was practically as tall as he himself was, could sleep in a hobbit sized bed.

“I arranged mine to make it bigger” Thorin replied with a shrug. “We usually don’t have any dwarves visiting so I’m afraid we don’t have anything that would fit” he said with an apologizing gaze.

“That’s quite alright, I’m used to sleeping on the floor anyway” the guard replied, unrolling his cot and arranging in on the floor. When he glanced up again he was surprised to see the other dwarf still standing there.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked hesitantly, unwilling to leave just yet when there was still so much he wanted to talk about with the first specimen of his kin he had met, yet unsure how to address that strange, brutal dwarf who tended to speak rudely to him for no reason at all. However he was intent on showing the warrior that he was not impressed by his rude behavior and that he would not let anyone treat him without at least some respect.

The warrior watched him with a sly grin. That young dwarf seemed to be too naïve and inexperienced for his own good. That was the perfect opportunity to have some fun.

“Depends what you have to offer” the guard said grabbing Thorin, pulling him up flat against him. The young dwarf immediately wrestled his way out of the guard’s grip, and Dwalin was totally taken aback when he suddenly found himself pinned to the wall, a dagger at his throat.

“Don’t you ever dare touching me again” Thorin growled menacingly, his grip on the dagger tightening.

“I was only joking” the warrior replied still grinning. In the blink of an eye the grin was suddenly gone and he glared at the other dwarf.

“You are very bold to show up into my room in the middle of the night, and even bolder to dare threatening me like that” he growled, his eyes shining dangerously. “No one who ever threatened me survived.”

“I am not afraid of you” Thorin said with a snort, pulling back and sheathing his dagger.

“Maybe you should be” Dwalin answered, holding his gaze. The young dwarf glared back, unimpressed.

“Why? Because you are a tall, strong brute who has some skill in battle? Sorry to disappoint you but it takes a lot more to scare me” Thorin replied with a shrug and left while Dwalin sat on his cot, chuckling and shaking his head at the young dwarf. Indeed, that young one was totally unlike any other dwarf he had ever met, and he had met quite a few of them over his years as captain of the guards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm not too good at writing battle scenes...
> 
> I know that Dwalin is supposed to have a scottish accent, but english is not my native language so I decided to drop it rather than attempt a poor imitation of said accent.
> 
> Comments are welcome!


	5. Chapter 5

“Get me more ale” Dwalin said not even bothering to look up from his plate, happily gulping down toast after toast. Thorin stared at him in disbelief, fighting the growing urge to punch that arrogant warrior in the face first thing in the morning. Of course the guard had been surprisingly silent, intently ignoring him as long as Bilbo was there, and as soon as the hobbit had left to fry more eggs the dwarf had suddenly seemed to remember that he was there, barking an order at him like he was one of his soldiers.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Dwalin said looking at him expectantly.

“I am not your personal slave” Thorin growled, sending him a hateful glare.

“No you’re not, but I am your guest, and you are expected to behave like a good host and give me what I ask for. Now get up your lazy ass and fill this up” Dwalin replied pushing his empty mug towards the younger dwarf. Thorin looked as if he was ready to punch him, but he obediently stood up and grabbed the empty mug instead. 

“This is one of the best ales you will find around here” Thorin said when he returned with a full mug. The warrior hummed appreciatively and ate what little food was left on his plate, methodically cleaning it from every single crumb he could find. He wasn’t expecting to have the contents of said mug poured over his head.

“Here you go, master dwarf. There’s plenty of it so don’t be shy about asking for more” Thorin said with a smug grin. “At your service” he said with a mocking bow and left. Dwalin sat there drenched in ale staring at the door though which Thorin had just left and slowly shook his head before giving in to laughter. 

Poor Bilbo almost fainted when he returned his arms full of food to find Dwalin roaring with laughter, ale dripping everywhere on his wooden table and precious carpet. He stood there frozen to the ground for a moment, unable to move, until his mind slowly started working again and he realized that if the guard was laughing then it meant that at least he wasn’t going to murder him for what had just happened. Although Bilbo hadn’t actually seen anything it was clear that the warrior hadn’t suddenly decided that it would be fun to bathe himself in ale. 

“Your son has quite a temper” Dwalin said once his laughter ceased. His eyes were twinkling and he was grinning at the hobbit, looking seemingly unaffected and quite amused by the whole situation. Bilbo paled at these words and ran to get something to wipe out the mess.

“I’m dreadfully sorry, I really don’t know what got into him all of a sudden, he’s usually so well behaved” Bilbo said desperately trying to save his poor carpet which was hopelessly drenched in ale.

“No need to apologize master Hobbit” the dwarf said casually. “No offense taken. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to clean up” he said bowing shortly and left, presumably to bathe in the river.

“Curse these rude dwarves!” Bilbo exclaimed loudly. “They both make a mess of my dining room, they ruined my carpet and there’s no one to help me clean everything up!” He sighed and flailed his arms around in despair, shaking his head at the mess. What could have possibly happened that would make his Isengrim, usually so polite and well behaved do such a stupid thing? The hobbit sighed again, unable to find a possible explanation to this. His son was getting more and more hard to figure out, and it seemed the contact with other dwarves wasn’t helping. Hopefully the dwarf army would soon leave and they could both go back to a normal life and forget that anything unexpected ever happened. 

***

It wasn’t until much later that day that the two dwarves met again; Thorin had gone for a long walk through the familiar paths of the Shire when he had suddenly decided that it would be a nice change to try to find where the dwarves had set up camp. It wasn’t too difficult given how loud the warriors were, and the young dwarf soon stood at the entrance in front of a very confused guard who stared at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

“I’m sorry but I have orders, no strangers are allowed inside the camp” he said finally, giving Thorin’s bare feet a long stare.

“I thought the orders were not to let any hobbits inside the camp?” Thorin replied with a smug grin. The guard kept staring at him, more and more confused. How could this stranger know of the orders the captain had given? Said orders had indeed referred to hobbits, it wasn’t as if there were any other creatures in these lands, but now he was standing face to face with an unknown dwarf when it was well known that there were none in the area.

“Look, I have no weapons, and even if I did, what kind of threat could a single dwarf be against such a powerful army?” Thorin tried again, annoyed at the guard’s obvious helplessness. “How about you take me to your captain and let him decide?”  
The warrior nodded and led him through the camp to a tent at the back. Thorin entered the tent without waiting for an invitation, startling the dwarf captain who stared at him, eyebrows raised with amusement.

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“I wanted to see where you had set up camp” Thorin replied simply. Dwalin watched him intently, obviously wondering why the guard at the entrance of the camp had simply let him in, but he remained silent and slowly nodded.

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Why did you come?” 

“I wanted to know when you are planning to leave” Thorin said surprisingly softly.

“Tomorrow at first light” Dwalin replied. “Why do you care?”

“I’ll be glad to see you gone” the younger dwarf answered with a shrug. Only now did he notice that they weren’t alone in the tent; a rather small dwarf, obviously older than both of them was watching them silently, seemingly intrigued by Thorin’s presence.

“But even if I cannot wait for you to leave I can’t forget my good manners either, and I would like to invite you for dinner tonight.”  
The warrior snorted and shook his head, slowly walking away. The older dwarf stood up, smiling, and walked up to him.

“Don’t mind him, he was never good at socializing” the long bearded dwarf said his smile widening, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “But he will come.” He then took a step back and bowed shortly.

“Balin, at your service” he said, his smile never leaving his face, his eyebrows raised in surprise as the younger dwarf introduced himself.

“Your name doesn’t sound familiar to me, yet I have a doubt, have we met before?” he asked slowly, watching the other’s reaction slowly.

“I don’t think we have” Thorin replied carefully. “I have never left the Shire.”

“Then it’s very unlikely that we did meet in the past, I must be mistaken” Balin said with a nod, but the curious glance was ever present in his eyes. Thorin stared at him, a little confused; the dwarf seemed friendly enough and certainly had better manners than the dwarf captain, yet there was something strange about him, like he either knew or suspected something that Thorin had no idea about.

“Of course you are welcome to join us for dinner too” Thorin added, suddenly remembering his manners. 

“It would be my pleasure” Balin replied with a smile and a short bow. 

“Now if you are done wasting my time why don’t you just leave” Dwalin said with an exaggerated sigh of annoyance. “Do you even realize how confusing your presence here is for my soldiers?”

“Of course I do” Thorin replied with a sly smile. “But I’m sure you will find the right words to explain why you let a stranger into your tent. I will see you tonight at my home then, I'm really looking forward to spend some time with you” he practically yelled the last sentence, making sure half of the camp heard it, and quickly walked out with a satisfied smile.

“That young one has quite a temper” an infuriated Dwalin heard behind him. To make matters even worse his brother was chuckling, obviously amused by their exchange. “Who is he?”

“No one” Dwalin replied with a grunt. “He’s just some hobbitish dwarf who seems to enjoy making fun of me” he growled angrily.

“He seemed polite and well-behaved to me, inviting me for dinner when we have just barely met each other” Balin said with another chuckle, before suddenly turning serious again. “Doesn’t he remind you of someone?” he asked, staring straight into his brother’s eyes. Dwalin stared back, searching his memory for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“No, I don’t think so” he said, shrugging, surprised and confused by his elder brother’s strange question. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m not sure” Balin said carefully. “He looks familiar, but I have never heard his name. Maybe I’m mistaking him for someone else.”

The warrior watched his older brother attentively, wondering just what he was thinking about. Not that he cared though; anything that had something to do with the annoying barefooted brat didn’t interest him in the least. When it was clear that the other dwarf wouldn’t say anything more the dwarf captain shrugged it off and went back to his tasks. He would have more than enough time in the evening to suffer the brat’s presence, so it was probably better to forget about whatever it was his brother had in mind and focus on matters at hand. 

***

The evening went by pleasantly; Bilbo immediately took a liking to the older dwarf and they had a long conversation about their respective cultures. Balin was friendly and a decent guest, so unlike his grumpy brother, Bilbo thought with a smile. Like most dwarves Balin had never heard of Hobbits before and he was curious to learn more about Bilbo’s kind. He seemed genuinely interested and kept asking questions to which Bilbo was more than happy to answer, in return asking questions of his own about dwarves, learning more within these few hours than he had in a lifetime of reading books about dwarves. 

The authors of said books were often mistaken, he noticed as Balin explained in detail how dwarven societies worked, and the more the hobbit listened to the elder dwarf the more he considered writing a book of his own, rectifying all the clichés and mistakes and offering more insight to what kind of creatures dwarves really were. Not that anyone would be interested in reading it in the Shire, he thought sadly, his kind mostly had disdain for what they thought were dirty, greedy creatures. Maybe he could do it for Thorin, he thought suddenly; his relation with his adopted son wasn’t always easy these days, maybe if he showed interest in dwarven culture it would tighten their bond, and Thorin would probably be happy to share with him what little he knew, and they could start on this project together, the Hobbit thought happily. 

He was so caught up in both his conversation with Balin and his own thoughts that he barely noticed the dwarf captain silently leaving. He would have shrugged it off as he was mostly glad to be rid of the rude, frightening dwarf if it had not been for Thorin’s reaction. The young dwarf stared after the guard, his brows furrowed in annoyance and he quickly stood up too.

“Where are you going at this hour?” Bilbo asked with a frown when Thorin walked to the front door.

“I just want to blow a few smoke rings, like I do every evening” the young dwarf replied with a shrug, pulling his pipe out of his pocket.

“Fine, just go then” Bilbo said waving him off, but the frown didn’t leave his face.

“I bet you’re still upset about what I did earlier” Thorin said quietly as he sat on the bench on Dwalin’s side outside of his home.

“Not everything I do or say has something to do with you, young Master Baggins” Dwalin replied with a snort. 

“Then why were you avoiding my gaze all evening, not to mention how you barely said a word to anyone?”

“You really think I’m obsessed with you, don’t you?” the guard said with a chuckle. “I’m not the one for long conversations, just ask my brother” he added with a shrug.

Thorin nodded and lit his pipe, sitting there silently for a moment, content to just smoke and stare at the stars in the vast deep blue sky.

“Do you miss your home?” he asked softly after some more minutes of awkward silence.

“I guess I do” Dwalin replied with a deep sigh. “I miss my father, my friends, the great stone halls of Erebor. But it has been feeling less and less like a home lately” he said quietly. “The king spends most of his time in the treasury, neglecting his duties. Everyone is worried about his sanity, and I fear what will happen to the kingdom with a gold-driven king. Thankfully there’s the crown prince who takes care of everything in place and name of his father, but he almost lost his mind with grief when his son went missing, and there are many rumors going around that he is not suited to be king either. Some even say that the line of Durin is cursed.” He said the last words in a whisper, as if he was afraid that someone would overhear him, even so far away from Erebor.  
Thorin stared at him in silence for a while, unsure what to say.

“I think I can understand how you feel” he said carefully. “I like the Shire, it’s my home, it’s where I grew up. But sometimes I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“I bet you do, I would feel uncomfortable too if I had to live amongst Halflings” the warrior replied with a chuckle. “Not that they’re bad people” he added quickly as Thorin shot him a murderous glare. “They’re quite a merry, simple folk. There wouldn’t be many wars if all the other races were like them.”

“That’s better” Thorin said with a snort. “Don’t you dare insulting them again, they’re my adopted kin” he said with a growl, making the other dwarf chuckle again.

“Yes, it’s quite obvious, Lerej Buzun. You certainly dress and behave like one” the warrior said with a smile. 

“What does that mean?” the younger dwarf asked, his eyes wide with confusion at the strange words.

“This” Dwalin replied simply, gesturing with his hand towards Thorin’s bare feet, to which the younger dwarf rolled his eyes.

“Oh but of course, you mentioned it only a dozen times so far, a nickname in that strange language of yours referring to what is something common amongst us was definitely missing in your records” Thorin said shaking his head, but he couldn’t hold back a little smile.

They fell in a comfortable silence, smoking quietly and enjoying each other’s company for what was probably the last time. 

“For many years I secretly wished that I would meet someone of my own kind, and when it finally happened it had to be you of all the dwarves in Middle Earth. I don’t think I will ever begin to understand you, but that’s probably just you, I suppose it would have been easier with any other dwarf.” 

Dwalin snorted at these words.  
“What does it matter anyway, tomorrow you’ll be rid of me” he said with a shrug.

“Yes, finally” Thorin replied with a cheeky grin and leaned back against the wall, laying his now extinguished pipe to the side. The warrior watched him in disbelief and shook his head quietly chuckling to himself.

“Come here” he said softly, leaning towards the other dwarf who just stared at him, puzzled. He couldn’t ignore the light shudder he felt when the warrior’s hand reached for him, coming to rest in his long black hair. With a surprising gentleness the warrior slowly closed the distance between them until their foreheads were touching.

“This is what dwarves do to express their affection” the warrior explained quietly.

“Us Hobbits are more the hugging type” Thorin replied, laughing lightly as he imagined what hugging that huge brute would feel like. The warrior found himself laughing too at the younger dwarf’s words, including himself when he was talking about hobbits.

“I can’t promise that we will meet again” the warrior said as he finally pulled back, reluctantly breaking the contact. “But I want you to know that you will not be forgotten.”

“You will not be easily forgotten either” Thorin replied with a snort. “But I wouldn’t take that as a compliment if I were you.”

“I never said mine was a compliment either” Dwalin said with a frown and looked away, therefore missing the other dwarf’s amused grin.

***

“I am really glad to have let you, it has been a wonderful evening” Bilbo said as Balin stood up, preparing to leave.

“It has been a pleasure too, Master Baggins” Balin replied with a short bow and a huge smile. Bilbo offered a brief nod, still puzzled at how often the older dwarf bowed, to him nonetheless. He assumed that this was probably some kind of good manners certain dwarves had, and he let out a sigh as he thought of the many questions he still wanted to ask the other dwarf about their culture, but unfortunately he was out of time, and it would be rather impolite to shower his gust with questions just as he prepared to leave.

“It’s really too bad that you can’t stay a few more days” Bilbo said with some regret. “It has been a long time since I had such an interesting conversation, and there are still so many things I need to learn.”

“It is a pleasure to meet someone who is so interested to learn more about us” Balin said smiling. 

“Yes, well, I have always been interested to learn as much as I could about other cultures, especially about dwarves” Bilbo said smiling back. It wasn’t a lie, he had always been curious to read and hear about dwarves, even more so ever since a certain little dwarfling had come crashing into his life.

“There’s always so much you can learn in books, but there are certain matters that are very rarely picked by these authors, like the dwarves’ language.”

“Us dwarves are very secretive about that, Master Baggins. Our language is kept a secret and we never teach it to any strangers” Balin explained. Bilbo looked utterly disappointed and was about to voice it when he suddenly seemed to remember something. He rushed to his bedroom while inviting the older dwarf to wait for him. He was back in an instant, almost running to a puzzled Balin, who watched with renewed interest as the hobbit carefully unwrapped a golden object from a white cloth.

“I have been keeping this in my cupboard for way too long, waiting for an opportunity I thought would never come, and now that said opportunity finally came I almost forgot about this” he explained rolling his eyes at himself. “These runes look dwarvish as far as I know, maybe you can read them?”

The hobbit handed the small golden bracelet to the dwarf who took it carefully, as if he was afraid that it would break between his fingers, and he stared at it with an expression of utter shock on his face.

“How came you by this?” he asked in a whisper, holding the bracelet in the light, examining it closely.

“My Isengrim was wearing this on the day I found him” Bilbo replied with a frown, wondering why the older dwarf suddenly looked so pale. “Does it mean anything?” he asked hesitantly after a moment of awkward silence during which Balin seemed to have forgotten about his presence. “Is it a name, or something like that?”

“It is indeed a name” Balin replied with a sad smile on his face, his gaze never leaving the golden bracelet, his finger gently, almost reverently tracing the runes on it.

“Oh, that’s good” Bilbo said with a smile, staring at the dwarf expectantly. “And what is it?” He asked when it became obvious that the dwarf would remain silent.

“Thorin”, Balin said simply, the smile gone from his face.

“Thorin” Bilbo repeated, trying to get used to the strange word. “So that was his birth name.” His frown deepened when the other dwarf ignored him again, seemingly lost in old memories.

“Please, tell me what is troubling you” the hobbit said, gently laying a hand on the dwarf’s arm. Balin blinked at the sudden contact and offered the hobbit an apologetic smile.

I only know one dwarf who bears that name” he said slowly. “And that would be the lost son of our crown prince.”

Bilbo stared at him mouth open in shock, unable to speak.

“You mean that Isengrim… I mean Thorin, is a prince?” the hobbit said in a shaky voice once he had regained his senses.

“Yes, he is” Balin said with a tender smile. “The young Prince of Erebor, heir to the throne.”

Bilbo almost stumbled over his own feet at these words, which he would have been the first to laugh at if the circumstances had been different. He quickly pulled out a chair and slumped down on it, trying to catch his breath. He felt as if his whole world had just been shattered. His son was no orphaned child like he had always thought; he was a prince, and he had a family somewhere far away waiting for him. A family who had a kingdom to pass on to him. Something definitely much more appealing than the rather large hobbit hole he had always lived in, his cozy little home that he had planned to pass on to his son one day.

“Master Baggins, are you alright?” Balin asked, genuinely concerned about the suddenly very quiet hobbit. That seemed to pull Bilbo out of his emotional turmoil, turning it into anger.

“Alright? How can you even expect me to be alright? My son has a family somewhere, a royal family who will go in search of him as soon as they hear the news!” he exclaimed almost hysterically, standing up so abruptly that he knocked his chair down.

“They will come here and take him from me! They will take him to the other end of the world, make him a prince, give him the best education and the best life anyone could dream of, and I will never see him again! And yet you expect me to be alright?”  
He let out a humorless laugh, then shook his head and took it in his hands.

“I am considered wealthy amongst my own kind” Bilbo said after a short moment of silence. “I have a roof over my head, my pantry is always full and I have enough money to last a lifetime if I am careful enough. This is more than enough to live a happy life, and give a happy life to a child. And this I did give to him, master Balin” he said quietly, holding the dwarf’s gaze. “I can’t pretend to be a perfect father, I know I’m not, but I gave him everything I could. I gave him all my love, and everyone in the Shire could tell you just how much I have to give in that matter” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I stopped caring a long time ago about respectability and everything that goes with it, I have gotten used to receiving strange glances and being called mad or whatever else it is that they call me. And I’ll tell you what, if I had a chance to go back into the past I wouldn’t change a thing. I did what I thought was best, and I dare say that I am proud of it. I fought hard for both of us and I would gladly do it all over again. But please, don’t take him from me.”

Balin had to strain to hear the last words, and he let out a loud sigh.

“I have no doubt that you indeed gave him everything you had to give, and I will never be thankful enough for what you did for him, raising him like your son even though he is not of your kind. I can assure you that I will not say a word to anyone about him, and that no one will ever take him from you without your consent.” He offered the hobbit a reassuring smile and watched as Bilbo slowly nodded, visibly relieved.

“But I have to remind you that he has a family in Erebor, a father who has longed for him for many years. I understand that these news are still fresh for you and that you are still in shock, and I am not asking you to make any decision right now. But maybe you could think about at least letting his father know that he is alive, not now of course but maybe within a few years? Life has not been kind to our crown prince, and I think he deserves to know the truth.”

Bilbo winced at that, yet he knew the dwarf was right. What if it had been the other way around, if Thorin had been his son and had suddenly disappeared, and had been adopted by someone else who had taken it upon themselves to raise him and take care of him? He definitely would want to hear a word from that person, informing him that his son is alive and well. It would be selfish of him to keep Thorin to himself, yet he couldn’t help the discomfort the knowledge that Thorin was royalty brought him. If his father –the word made him wince, a sharp pang of jealousy and anger hitting him at the thought of anyone else baring the title of Thorin’s father- truly was a crown prince, then he would probably send an army to bring his son back. He knew he would, if it had been the other way around.

“You have my word that I will not say a single word about this to anyone” Balin repeated, as if he could read the hobbit’s mind. “Do not trouble your mind any further, master Baggins” he said laying a comforting hand on the hobbit’s arm, returning Bilbo’s earlier gesture with a warm smile. “I can only imagine how much of a shock it must be for you, but it is not as bad as you think. Thorin is your son as far as I know, and he always will be. Take your time, think about it, but don’t worry yourself about it more than necessary.”

Bilbo nodded slowly, somehow finding the strength to smile back. Even though he barely knew the dwarf he knew he could trust him, and right now all he wanted was to follow Balin’s advice and try not to trouble himself further with this.

***

The soldiers departed the next day at dawn, as planned, lined up neatly, resplendent in their shiny armors. The dwarf captain was smiling as he gave the orders to prepare to leave, nodding his head at the few hobbits who had come out to watch their parade with wide curious eyes. As if on its own accord his gaze drifted to a hill nearby, and he found himself staring at the exact same spot where he had first seen Thorin, perched up on this same hill. He felt almost disappointed to see nothing but empty space, but he quickly shook his head, chuckling to himself. He was way past the age of fairytales, and he was definitely relieved to be soon miles away from the Halflings, especially from one certain bare footed brat of a dwarf. No, Dwalin didn’t have any regrets, why should he? He was leaving, beginning a long trip that would finally take him back home, and he was happy, end of the story.

He didn’t notice his brother’s amused expression as he spotted the captain’s troubled face, but Balin only shook his head, smiling to himself, and didn’t say a word. What Dwalin didn’t notice either, but his brother did with a frown, was the missing silver clasp in the warrior’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the end of the happy times for Thorin...
> 
> Sorry for the lenght of this, it's even longer than usual, but I can't seem to be able to write shorter chapters... I hope you don't mind!  
> If you have come this far then I thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave a comment if you want (no, I'm absolutely not shamelessly begging for comments, whatever made you think that?) :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is unhappy and dreams of another life, but Bilbo is even more protective of him now that he knows who he really is... How will their relations evolve?

Chapter 6

Bilbo blinked a few times, clearing his slightly blurry vision. He had been staring at the same page for long minutes, unable to tear his eyes from the one word in the middle of the page. His gaze kept sweeping over the names, Thror, King under the mountain, his son Thrain, and sure enough there he was, the king’s grandson. Thorin. His Thorin, Bilbo thought bitterly. He had been this close to tell him what he had learnt from Balin, but the more he thought about it the more he feared that he would lose Thorin. Why would he want to stay here with him in the Shire when he could live as a prince in Erebor?

Bilbo sighed and closed the book, putting it back where he had found it. He had thought that maybe he could tell Thorin his real name, and nothing more for the moment, let his get used to it before he revealed anything else, but even that plan was now to be abandoned. What if Thorin found his name in one of his books on dwarves, like Bilbo had just done? No, this couldn’t happen, the hobbit thought resolutely. Thorin had gone strangely quiet and moody ever since Balin and Dwalin left, who knew how he would react to the shocking news? No, Bilbo wouldn’t tell him. He would protect him as best as he could, even if that included lying to him. As much as he hated that it was still better than have him even more upset and confused than he already was.

What would it mean for Thorin to discover who he really was? Nothing much, Bilbo thought bitterly. The young dwarf would probably end up asking Bilbo dozens of questions about what this new identity meant for him, what he was supposed to do now that he knew and who knew what else, hundreds of questions that Bilbo would be unable to answer.

_“You’re almost there” Bilbo said as he led the dwarfling in his study. “No cheating!” he added as Thorin tried to peer between his fingers._

_“I’m not cheating!” the little dwarf replied, giggling. Bilbo laughed, sshaking his head at the child’s lack of patience._

_“Here you are” he said guiding the dwarfling in the middle of the room, making him stand there. “You can open your eyes now.”_

_The little dwarf immediately pulled his hands away from his face, staring at the wall opposite him with big round eyes. It was the wall on which Bilbo had all his extended family tree exposed, the same family tree on which Thorin had chosen his hobbit name. Only this time there was a new branch under Bilbo’s name._

_“That’s my name!” the dwarfling exclaimed happily, beaming._

_“Yes it is” Bilbo said smiling at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “You have been here for exactly one year today. You are part of my family now.”_

_“Does that mean that you are my father now?” the little dwarf asked with a big smile, taking Bilbo completely off guard._

_“Well, if you want me to be, then yes, I suppose I am” Bilbo answered hesitantly, fearing for a brief second that the child would reject his suggestion. Maybe he had been too bold, putting little Isengrim Baggins’ name in the genealogy without asking him first for his opinion._

_“Of course I do!” the little dwarf exclaimed happily and hugged Bilbo’s legs affectionately._

_“Welcome to the Baggins family then” Bilbo said reaching down to gently stroke the long black locks. “My son” he added proudly. The dwarfling looked up at him, beaming._

_“Now why don’t we go to the kitchen? Today is a day of celebration and there’s another surprise waiting for you-”_

_“My favorite chocolate cake!” Thorin squealed and run off to the kitchen before Bilbo could finish his sentence. Bilbo stood there for a moment, chuckling to himself, amused by the young dwarf’s newfound enthusiasm towards food. In that matter at least he would make a good hobbit, Bilbo thought smiling brightly._

_Thorin surprised Bilbo again later that day when he came up with yet another question in the middle of eating his second slice of chocolate cake._

_“I read that there was a Thain named Isengrim” the dwarfling declared proudly, offering Bilbo a wide toothy grin._

_“Yes, that’s right. There were at least two of them if I remember correctly” the hobbit said, impressed once more by the little dwarf’s curiosity concerning hobbits, and how fast he seemed to learn everything, reading book after book and asking Bilbo about whatever custom he didn’t understand._

_“What is a Thain?” Thorin asked, staring intently at Bilbo, shifting excitedly in his seat at the thought of learning more._

_“It used to be the name given to the military leader of the Hobbits of the Shire, although it’s more of an honorary title nowadays really” Bilbo explained patiently. “But there is still a Thain within the Took clan.”_

_“So it’s like a king?” Thorin said, his eyes widening with amazement._

_“It’s a little bit like a king of Hobbits, yes, or at least it used to be” Bilbo replied, amused by the comparison._

_“My name is a kingly name” Thorin said to himself, his voice barely above a whisper, his smile widening even more. “Isengrim Baggins, King of the Shire!” he exclaimed loudly, giggling._

Bilbo chuckled to himself, smiling fondly at the memory. Thorin had barely been more than a baby back then, yet he had seemed awed by everything that had to do with kings and royalty, demanding to know more about the various Thains of the Shire and working hard to remember their names, all in chronological order, reciting the long list to Bilbo with a serious expression on his face, which never failed to amuse the hobbit.

“Father? Are you there?” The young dwarf’s voice snapped the hobbit out of his thoughts, making him jump at the unexpected noise.

“Yes, right here” Bilbo called back, taking a deep breath as he tried to gather his thoughts. The sound of footsteps made the hobbit smile as it always did; from a child on until today Bilbo relished in that sound, too heavy to be a Hobbit’s footsteps, yet much quieter than any other dwarf who would be wearing boots, thicker clothes, weapons and armor.

“What are you doing standing here?” Thorin asked staring at Bilbo, surprised to find him standing midway through the door to his bedroom.

“What? Oh, nothing. Just putting some order in there” Bilbo said motioning towards the mess in the young dwarf’s room.

“You have been doing a poor job of it then” Thorin said with a chuckle. “It’s as messy as it is usually. By the way, Master Gamgee left the tomato plants you wanted on the doorstep. He said you didn’t answer the door.”

“Oh yes, the tomato plants” Bilbo said remembering suddenly the conversation he had had with his neighbor the day before, and how Hamfast had promised to give him a few of his own tomato plants since he happened to have too many and somehow Bilbo’s own tomato plants were much fewer and thinner than they usually were.

“I was probably busy when he came by, I didn’t even hear him knock” Bilbo added when he noticed how Thorin was looking at him with a slightly worried glance. “Look how late it already is! We’d better hurry if we want to put them in the garden before dinner” Bilbo said beginning to panic as he realized that he had been standing in Thorin’s room for most of the afternoon. He had even missed afternoon tea, which had never happened before. He went to get his coat when the dwarf’s hand on his arm gently stilled him.

“I already took care of that” Thorin said quietly. “Are you sure you’re alright? You have been acting a bit strange lately” he said, the worry back in his eyes. Bilbo almost snorted at that, fighting the urge to remind Thorin of his own strange behavior.

“I’m fine, just a bit depressed I guess, like every year at the beginning of winter” Bilbo said with a sigh.

“But it’s spring” Thorin replied with a frown. “What is the matter with you? And don’t tell me nothing again.”

“I told you already, I’m perfectly fine, and yes, I was confused for a moment about the season, so what? It’s spring, but it’s cold and windy like late autumn” Bilbo said motioning to the window as if to prove his point. “Since you’re back why don’t you go wash off all the dirt you probably brought back with you as usual and come give me a hand for cooking dinner?”

“I’m clean, I went swimming in the river” Thorin said holding up his hands as if to show that they were indeed clean.

“At this time of the year?” Bilbo exclaimed, frowning.

“I don’t mind” Thorin replied shrugging.

“Well I do, and you will be more careful from now on, I don’t want you to catch a cold” Bilbo said waggling his finger at the dwarf as if he was scolding a child.

Thorin rolled his eyes but said nothing. Hobbits were sensitive creatures, of course Bilbo couldn’t understand that dwarves were much more resistant and very rarely got sick.

“I was thinking that maybe we could travel to Bree, and spend a day or two there?” Thorin said carefully while he helped Bilbo cut vegetables to make a soup.

“To Bree? And what do you want to do there?” Bilbo said, almost dropping his knife in shock.

“We could search for more plants, they surely have some rare ones that you can’t find in the market, and we could shop for gardening tools” the young dwarf said enthusiastically. “Besides” he added more quietly “you said there might be other dwarves there.”

Bilbo put his knife down with more force than necessary, making the dwarf jump slightly.

“I suggest you forget about that stupid idea of yours” Bilbo said sternly. Thorin gaped at him in shock; the hobbit had never talked so harshly to him before. He didn’t understand why he would react this strongly to a simple, harmless suggestion.

“Why?” he asked, frowning.

“Why? You dare to ask me why!” Bilbo exclaimed, flailing his rams around wildly. “Hobbits don’t travel, especially not as far as Bree. We’re not going, end of the discussion.”

“Fine, we will not go to Bree then” Thorin said with a sigh. “I will go alone.”

“What? Alone? Have you lost your mind?” Bilbo almost yelled, his eyes so wide with surprise that they were threatening to bulge out of his head.

“I’m not a child anymore, there’s no danger, really. Please, I just want to buy a pair of boots, and you know that’s impossible to find in the Shire!”

“How would you know that there are no dangers? You have no idea what’s out there!” the hobbit exclaimed motioning towards the window. “You are not safe at all outside, which is of course why we never travel! And boots, really? You have been running around barefoot since your childhood, what do you suddenly need boots for?”

“A barefoot dwarf will be laughed at, it’s something unheard of.” Thorin explained calmly, hoping to soothe the hobbit’s anger a bit.

“Oh please, not this again” Bilbo said rolling his eyes dramatically. “Don’t tell me that you will start wearing boots just because that impolite brute laughed at you!”

“It’s not because of him” Thorin tried to protest, but Bilbo waved it off with a quick motion of his hand.

“Enough of this for now. I will think about it, but don’t mention it again today.”  
Thorin nodded slowly, surprised that the hobbit was even considering to think about it after that outburst.

***

Thorin was surprised when he opened the door to find an unknown dwarf standing there, staring at him with a grim expression.

“I assume you are Master Baggins?” he asked in a deep, gravelly voice, raising one of his bushy eyebrows. “I am Frar, son of Nar, at your service” he said with a deep bow. “I am the shoemaker that you requested.”

Thorin opened his mouth to inform the other dwarf that he had never requested his presence but Bilbo quickly joined them on the doorstep, gently pushing Thorin aside.

“Ah, Master Frar, you are here already! I wasn’t expecting you to show up so quickly, but that’s good, very good indeed! Please come in! Isengrim, come help me make some space so that our shoemaker can install all of his tools” the hobbit said joyfully. Thorin watched with a frown as the other dwarf bowed shortly once more and went to get his heavy bags which he carried inside as I they weighed nothing.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thorin asked Bilbo as he helped the hobbit put some order in the room for the shoemaker.

“You wanted some boots, remember?” Bilbo replied with a smile. “It just happened that Master Frar here was on a business trip in Hobitton so I asked him to come over so that he could make you some dwarven boots, just like you wanted.”

“But what business does a dwarf have in the Shire?”

“Here, help me put the stools away, there will be more space that way” Bilbo said, lifting one of the stools to take it in the kitchen. Thorin stared at him in disbelief; of course a dwarven shoemaker would have no interest in trying to sell shoes to Hobbits when it was well-known that they didn’t wear any. Bilbo had somehow found a way to contact that dwarf and have him come over, effectively silencing any other pleas from Thorin to go to Bree. He had pretended to need boots so as to convince Bilbo to let him travel there; what other reason could he possibly find now that there was a shoemaker to make him the boots he had asked for?

Sighing he joined Bilbo and the dwarf, half-heartedly looking at the many sketches of designs that the shoemaker had brought with him. He was expecting Bilbo to leave him to choose whatever he wanted since the hobbit had no knowledge of shoes; however he was surprised to find his adopted father arguing with him at his seemingly poor choice of material.

“If you are to buy one pair, then at least pick the best leather! This one would last, what, a couple of years at most?”

“It’s good enough, really” Thorin replied, but Bilbo was having none of it.

“No it’s not! Choose whatever design you like, but you are having the boots done in the best leather, along with the most expensive furs on the outside.”

“But father, you cannot pay for all of this!” Thorin exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise. “It’s too much! That one is alright, really!”

“Listen to me young dwarf, you are most definitely not having boots made out of ordinary leather. You will be getting the best, end of the story.”  
Thorin shook his head, resigned. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the material, of course he was in awe in front of the shiny, expensive leather and neatly trimmed black fur, but he really didn’t understand why his father always insisted that he choose specifically those.

It had been the same the last time he had wanted new clothes, Bilbo had argued with him for half an hour that he would be choosing material of the best quality, that he deserved the best, no matter the price. As far as he remembered Bilbo had always spoilt him rotten, buying him whatever it was that he wanted, and even things he had not known he wanted, but only recently had it gone as far as Bilbo insisting that he ‘always deserved the best’. The young dwarf couldn’t help but wonder where this suddenly came from, he had never doubted the love his father had for him, surely Bilbo didn’t think it was necessary to buy him expensive gifts to prove him that?

“Look at you, these boots suit you so well! You were right to insist on buying a pair. You should wear that deep blue velvet tunic we bought last week, it would be a perfect match with the boots! You would look like a real dwarven prince” Bilbo said, making Thorin chuckle at the odd comparison and at his father’s exaggerated enthusiasm.

“You are right, they’re beautiful and very comfortable” the young dwarf said with a smile, shifting his feet a bit in the boots to prove his point. As much as he was used to walking around barefoot he was forced to admit that wearing boots was different, it felt more natural to him, and definitely more comfortable since he didn’t have the thick sole hobbit feet possessed.

“See, I was right to insist that you choose these” Bilbo said with a smug grin. “I know you didn’t want to spend too much money on this so that we can still afford your garden tools, but don’t worry, we will get you a complete set very soon” he added, his smile brightening.

“It’s not necessary, I can use yours” Thorin said suddenly looking strangely uncomfortable.

“What do you mean? Of course you will get new ones, you will need your own if you want to be a gardener!”

“I may have changed my mind about that” Thorin said quietly, looking away as Bilbo’s face fell.

“What? But I thought your biggest dream was to be a gardener! You can’t just give up like this, if it’s about money-“

“It’s not because of money” Thorin said with a deep sigh. “I said this when I was a child, I may have meant it back then but I have changed, father! I like helping you with the garden, I really do, but I don’t want to spend my life growing plants and crops. Besides there are so many hobbit gardeners already, who would want to employ a dwarf?”

The hobbit frowned, his face darkening.

“I think I will have a few words with whoever planted that stupid idea in your head that you would be a poor gardener.”

“It’s not like that, no one planted any idea in my head, I just don’t want to be a gardener anymore, is it really that hard to understand?” Thorin almost yelled, immediately regretting to have let his anger take the best of him.

Bilbo stared at him in disbelief, remaining silent, seemingly considering what to answer to these words. Slowly he pulled out a chair and sat down, his gaze not leaving the young dwarf.

“So you have changed your mind, very well. There’s no point in arguing with you then, if you have already made up your mind on something else. But I want you to know that I’m not disappointed, as long as you are happy” Bilbo said smiling tenderly at him. “So, what is it? What do you want to do?” he asked his eyes gleaming with excitement and curiosity.

Thorin shifted uncomfortably, staring thoughtfully at his brand new boots, wondering how to bring up the subject.

“Do you remember when we were attacked by an orc pack? We were lucky that Dwalin was there that day with his warriors to protect us” he said quietly, watching Bilbo’s face attentively for any reaction.

“Luck had nothing to do with this” Bilbo replied with a snort. “That brute was the one who led the orcs here to begin with, it’s only fair that he got us rid of them! There were never any orcs in the Shire before, of course he had to be the one-“

“Can’t you just let me finish?” Thorin said with an annoyed sigh. “You heard what Dwalin said, there are strange things happening these days, orcs running around devastating lands, killing innocent people who had never even heard of them before! My point is, the Shire doesn’t have a protector. I think we could use a strong warrior to protect our land from any enemies.”

“If you’re talking about that crude, degenerated ape-“

“I wasn’t talking about him, I was talking about myself” Thorin said rolling his eyes. “I could do that. I could protect the Shire from any attack.”

“You?” Bilbo said incredulously, staring at Thorin as if he had suddenly grown a second head. “But how… that’s not even a respectable occupation!” Bilbo stuttered, utterly horrified by the dwarf’s crazy idea.

“That’s what you want to be, a murderer, an assassin who lurks around killing whoever crosses his path? A Baggins, wanting to be a warrior, now that’s something totally unheard of!” Bilbo exclaimed, waving his arms around in anger.

“I would only kill orcs, and whatever foul beast might come in the Shire and threaten us! I never said I wanted to become a bandit!” Thorin said, annoyance evident in his voice. He had hoped so much that Bilbo would at least approve, if not understand that this was the life he now dreamt of.

“So that’s your ambition, to be a warrior like that Dwalin?” The way Bilbo spat out the name made Thorin wince, and he desperately tried to keep his temper in check.

“This is not about Dwalin! Now can you please stop mentioning him? This is about me, about what I want!” he yelled out angrily. Bilbo stared at him, mouth open in shock.

“You can’t be serious about this! You don’t even have a weapon anymore!” he said shaking his head.

“That can be arranged” Thorin answered carefully. “Hobbits don’t know how to fight, but that’s something I can do, I could make myself useful” he said with a hopeful smile, cringing internally at the hobbit’s deepening frown.

“I may not know much about fighting but even I know that it takes years of hard training to acquire the basic techniques, and even more to become a capable fighter. How do you suggest to do that? Who could train you?”

Thorin stared at him, utterly speechless and upset at not having thought of this sooner. Bilbo let out a sigh and stood up, closing the space between his son and himself and gently took the dwarf’s hands in his.

“This would never work, son. You can’t teach yourself to fight. It would be much more simple if you choose gardening, really. Hamfast Gamgee could take you as an apprentice, I’m sure he wouldn’t refuse if I asked him personally. Besides he’s the best, you couldn’t dream of finding a better teacher than him, and you know how much the Gamgees like you” he said squeezing Thorin’s hands, smiling warmly at him.

“And if you really don’t want to be a gardener anymore, then you could be a cook! That’s something I could teach you! We could try to find some books about dwarven cooking, I’m sure many Hobbits would be curious to discover foreign food! We could find a good place to open a restaurant, you would be the first dwarven cook in the Shire! Now that would be something, don’t you think so?”

Bilbo was so enthusiastic, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he went on about many details of how he already planned the restaurant to be that Thorin could only nod, although a bit reluctantly, forcing a smile.

“I guess I could make a decent living” the dwarf said shrugging, not sounding at all convinced.

“Of course you would! We Hobbits like to eat! The few Inns in the Shire are never empty” he said his smile widening. “That’s the best thing to do, trust me” Bilbo said quietly, giving Thorin’s hand one more gentle squeeze. “I will help you, we will do this together. You will have a happy life here, I’m sure of that” he added, his face suddenly darkening at those words, his smile turning into a sad one, and he nodded slowly, as if he was trying to convince himself as well as the young dwarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much happening there, sorry... This was supposed to be only a part of this chapter but it ended up longer than I had planned, and there was no way to cut off a portion of what will now be the next chapter, so I decided to break it into two chapters. The next one is already on its way, so look out for it in the next few days! 
> 
> Comments are welcome as usual :)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Bilbo and Thorin were having dinner when the bell rang. The Hobbit frowned, he wasn’t expecting any company today, especially not at such a late hour.

“Stay here, I will get the door” he said quietly and slowly stood up, a strange feeling of dread creeping inside him for some reason. He let out a sigh of relief when a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

“Master Balin! It’s good to see you again!” the Hobbit exclaimed, his face splitting into a huge smile.

“Master Baggins” the dwarf said with a smile of his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you once more. Is he here?” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper as he spoke the last words. Bilbo frowned, confused for a short moment.

“Who? Oh yes, of course he’s here! Please, come in, we were just about to have dinner, there will be more than enough for three” he said stepping back so that the dwarf could enter.

“Thank you Master Baggins, how considerate of you to offer to share your dinner. I have come a long way and I am indeed hungry” Balin replied with a small, tired smile. Bilbo couldn’t help but notice how exhausted the dwarf looked. He looked a bit older too, although it had barely been three years since they had last met. Surprisingly enough the dwarf lord’s clothes were dirty and ragged, which caused the hobbit’s frown to deepen.

Bilbo led him to the main room, offered him a seat and left briefly, trotting eagerly to the kitchen to get more food for their guest. Balin smiled as he spotted Thorin and bowed shortly to him as he greeted him, which confused the young dwarf but he didn’t dare to voice it.

“So what owes us the pleasure of your visit?” Bilbo asked as he deposited in front of the dwarf a plate full of bacon, salted pork, cheese, bread and pretty much a single of everything else he had in his pantry.

“I am afraid I am the bearer of bad news Master Baggins” Balin said with a sad smile. “Many things happened since we last saw each other.”

Bilbo took a quick look at the dwarf’s once sophisticated, finely embroidered, now ruined clothes and let out a little sigh, wondering what those terrible events Balin referred to could be.

“Maybe you would like to rest a bit before telling us everything?” Bilbo suggested quietly.

“Thank you for your kindness, but I’m afraid I don’t have much time. I will rest, but I have to inform you of the fate of the Dwarves of Erebor” he answered, gratifying Bilbo with a warm smile. The Hobbit nodded, his bad feeling instantly back. He didn’t like the grim, somewhat sad expression on the dwarf’s usually friendly face and he was wiggling nervously as Balin quickly ate, all of them remaining silent and avoiding each other’s gaze. The calm before the storm, Bilbo thought bitterly.

“There is no way of breaking the news to you gently, so please forgive me if I am too straightforward, but I must expose to you the facts and as I already said we don’t have too much time.” He let out a deep sigh at these words, and seemed to slump a bit in his chair, his face clouding briefly at the memory of tough times.

“A dragon came to Erebor, bringing wrath, ruin and death upon us.” Balin let out the breath he had been holding. There, the worst part was out. He had feared to put into words what had happened that day, afraid as he was not to be able to find the right words to express the emotional turmoil they had all went through that day. But here he was, he had said it, and although those few words instantly brought back painful memories it wasn’t nearly as bad as he had thought, but he had just begun telling his wide eyed hosts about what had befallen his people, and there was still so much to tell.

“A dragon?” Bilbo said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he too was afraid, scared of a word as if pronouncing it would bring said beast and its fire into his cozy hobbit hole.

“Yes Master Baggins, a dragon, a fire drake from the north, drawn to the lonely mountain by the king’s immense wealth. He brought destruction and death, reducing many of us to nothing but a mere pile of ashes” he said shaking his head sadly.

“What about Dwalin?” Thorin asked suddenly, causing the others to stare at him in surprise. The young dwarf’s heart had stopped beating for a fleeting moment at Balin’s words, and he fought desperately the thought of the dwarf guard’s body lying somewhere within a destroyed city. The older dwarf had said he was bearing terrible news, but surely this couldn’t be, Dwalin couldn’t be dead, he thought frantically.

“Is he-“

“My brother is alive, and well” Balin replied with a kind smile. Thorin let out the breath he had been holding, noticing the amused glance in the dwarf lord’s eyes. “But one of us had to stay behind, to prepare the king in case- but I’m getting ahead of myself” Balin said slowly shaking his head.

“Take your time” Bilbo said softly, gently laying his hand on top of the older dwarf’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Balin looked surprise by the gesture, but he nodded slowly and offered the hobbit a grateful smile.

“We lost out home to the dragon, and we were forced to wander into the wild. Our king had been sick for many years, blinded by his lust for gold, and I guess something bad was bound to happen. He was a great king once, before his greed blinded him” he said glancing over at Thorin with a smile full of nostalgia. 

“He led us through wilderness, and instead of choosing a land to try and build a new home for our people he decided to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria, founded by Durin, greatest king of our race, the king’s ancestor. It was well-known that it had been taken by legions of orcs, and many of us tried to dissuade the king from what we thought would be a suicide mission. And it was” he said with a deep sigh.

Memories of that terrible battle at the gates of Khazad Dûm flooded his mind, and it took all of his will to force them away. He couldn’t lose himself in grief, not now. He had to go on, for the sake of his now exiled people.

“We lost many of our kin there, many brave warriors, as well as young, innocent dwarrows who should have never been brought to battle” the dwarf said shaking his head, his eyes filled with sadness. “Our king fell, and the young Prince Frerin was killed too. Such a young, merry lad he was, you would have liked him, I’m sure of that” he said with a sad smile, looking at a very confused Thorin. 

“Too many fell that day, including my own father” he said holding back his tears. In an instant the hobbit’s hand was on his arm, providing a most welcome, comforting touch.

“For all it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss” Bilbo said quietly. “I know what it’s like to lose a father, it leaves you empty and numb” he said with a sigh, remembering all too well his own beloved father’s passing, although his had died peacefully in a warm bed, not on a bloody battlefield. Not that the pain had been easier, he reflected silently.

“Thank you for your compassion, Master Baggins, it is most welcome, but alas now is not the time to grieve for my father. You are a kind soul, offering me support when you barely know me, giving me kind words when I don’t deserve them, for I bring grief and sadness into your home. Although it pains me to do so I must ask you for help.” 

Balin’s words were met with a deafening silence. Thorin was staring at him, shock stilled, frozen in what Balin noticed was a mostly regal posture. It brought him small comfort but it almost made him smile to see the young prince so similar to his father and brother in the way he sat quietly and listened attentively, his head very slightly tilted to the side.

“I am sincerely sorry for your loss, and that of your people” Bilbo said slowly. “And I would be more than willing to lend you all the help you need, but I’m no king with a powerful army to retake your lost kingdom, I’m only a Hobbit” he said with an apologetic gaze. “I really don’t think I could be of any help” he finished quietly, lamely in his own opinion, and he lowered his gaze, mentally kicking himself for not being able to find the right words.

“You are much more than a simple Hobbit, master Baggins” Balin said softly, “which is why I have come to you in these times of need. I do need your help, as well as yours, your Highness” he said with a respectful bow towards Thorin. 

“Why are you calling me that?” Thorin said, half amused, half confused. He met Bilbo’s gaze, but the Hobbit quickly looked away, blushing furiously, then paling as he felt Balin’s own shocked, disapproving gaze on him.

“You didn’t tell him” the dwarf said slowly, his words more of an affirmation than a real question. 

“Tell me what? What are you hiding from me?” Thorin said, his frown deepening as he gazed alternatively at the hobbit and the older dwarf, both looking equally lost and shocked.

“You are Thorin, son of Thrain, now king of Durin’s folk” Balin said carefully. “Which makes you the Crown Prince of Erebor.”

“A prince? No, It cannot be” the young dwarf sputtered, his face livid. “You must be mistaken” he said with a nervous chuckle, but he knew deep inside that Balin was telling the truth. The older dwarf’s serious, but almost apologetic expression made it clear enough.

“You knew” The young dwarf said looking at Bilbo in disbelief. “You knew it, and you didn’t tell me!” he almost yelled, staring accusingly at the hobbit who flinched at Thorin’s harsh tone, unable to meet his son’s gaze.

“I’m sure he would have told you eventually” Balin said quietly, his calm voice soothing both Thorin and Bilbo’s nerves. “Your father needs you, my prince. He was so devastated when you disappeared, we all thought he would lose his mind. And now he lost not only his home, but his father, and his other son. You must understand that our people need a leader, and King Thrain is in no shape to assume that role at the moment. Which is why we need you, laddie. We need you to bring your father hope, to help him break the walls he built between himself and the rest of the world. I wished you would have learnt all this in a less brutal manner, but our Lord is mad with grief, while our people need him to be strong for them.”

Thorin shook his head, unable to utter a single word, his face as pale as death, his empty gaze showing hurt and betrayal. He looked as if he wanted to say something but no words came out. He stood up abruptly, the sudden noise making Bilbo jump, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Thorin, wait” he called feebly, watching as the young dwarf flinched at the use of his birth name.

“Leave me alone” the young dwarf said in a whisper and left at a fast pace. Bilbo took his face in his hands, fighting back tears.

“You promised me no one would ever come to take him from me, and yet here you are, demanding that I give him back” to his father, he finished internally but couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, to call someone else Thorin’s father when he had been the one to take that place for most of the young dwarf’s life. 

“And I have no intention of breaking that promise. All I’m asking for is a meeting between Thrain and Thorin, nothing more” Balin said slowly.

“Nothing more? And just how do you think this is going to affect him? He is not ready for this!” Bilbo exclaimed with a sigh of frustration. 

“I am not here on the behalf of a king, Master Baggins. I am here on the behalf of a broken desperate father.”

“And what if he then wants to keep Thorin with him? This is what’s going to happen, we both know it” Bilbo said with a dry laugh. “Of course he will want him to stay. And what is a simple Hobbit to say against the will of a king?”

“You know Thorin better than I do” Balin explained quietly. “Who do you think he will want to stay with, a father who raised him, or a biological father who is a total stranger to him? And you seem to forget that even though Thrain is now king of Durin’s folk he is an exiled king, and nothing more than a shadow of the mighty dwarf he once was. He will not ask anything from Thorin.”

Bilbo nodded slowly, trying to put some order in his thoughts, analyzing the information he had been provided with.

“So your plan is to make Thorin meet the king, so that the joy of seeing him alive will shake him out of his depressed state?” The hobbit asked incredulously. Somehow no matter how he put it into words it didn’t make any sense to him.

“Yes, that’s the plan. I’m only doing this for the sake of our people” Balin said calmly.

“And you are willing to put the responsibility of all this on Thorin’s shoulders?” Bilbo said, glaring at the dwarf accusingly. Balin looked away, embarrassed. 

“He doesn’t have to bear that responsibility alone” he said hesitantly. Bilbo snorted at that.

“Of course he won’t! If he agrees to go, then he will most definitely not go without me” the hobbit said determinedly. “Whatever his decision is, he will have my full support. But the choice will be his alone, and if he refuses you will not insist anymore.”

“I never doubted that you would” Balin said with a small, tired smile. “And I never had any intention of forcing him to come back with me. Like you said it is his own choice to make.”

“Give him some time” Bilbo said quietly. “Maybe you could go rest a bit? You have traveled a long way, and you look like you need some sleep. Feel free to use one of the guest rooms” the hobbit said motioning towards the long corridor where the spare bedrooms were situated. “If you would excuse me, I need to talk to my son” Bilbo said slowly standing up. 

Balin nodded slowly, thanking him again for his hospitality, and stood up too to find one of the guest rooms. He was indeed exhausted, having travelled as fast as he could, barely catching any sleep within the last days. He had done his part, and there was nothing more he could do for now. Bilbo and Thorin needed some time alone, and he fully understood that. 

The dwarf looked up at the sound of the front door opening and closing and he stared at the round door for a moment, deep in thought. Letting out a deep sigh he slowly walked away, his shoulders hunched with the weight of the recent events. He hated himself for having destroyed a family’s peacefulness, but there wasn’t another way. He had to at least try, for the sake of his people.

Bilbo carefully sat down on the bench next to the young dwarf, flinching as Thorin moved away to put more distance between them, stubbornly refusing to look at him.

“You have every right to be upset” Bilbo said slowly. “I should have told you, and I swear I wanted to, but I never seemed to find the right words or the right moment” the hobbit said with a deep sigh. Thorin kept staring in the opposite direction, his expression unreadable.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to” Bilbo said softly.

“And what else is there to do?” Thorin replied with a snort. Bilbo lowered his gaze, speechless. They remained silent for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts, unsure what to say to the other.

“How do you feel?” Bilbo asked when he could no longer bear the thick, uncomfortable silence that had spread between them.

“Empty, and numb” Thorin replied with a strangely calm voice. “But other than that everything’s fine” he said with a dry, humorless chuckle. “I feel like I’m a complete stranger to myself, like everything I used to know is nothing but lies.”

Bilbo’s heart dropped at those words, making him feel sick with guilt, and useless, unable to help his son when he was obviously hurting.

“But it also feels familiar” Thorin said slowly, gazing up at the stars. “That name… I think I remember hearing it before.”

“And what else do you remember?” Bilbo asked gently, fighting the urge to make physical contact with his son, choosing to restrain himself from doing so for now; he doubted Thorin would appreciate it in that moment.

“I remember running” Thorin said quietly. “I was running away from something, or someone, right before you found me. But it’s so far away, it feels more like a distant dream than a real memory.” The young dwarf sighed and let his head hang in defeat.

“I used to remember his face, when I was younger” he said in a whisper after a short silence. “But it’s gone now” he said with a deep that sounded almost like a sob. “All I seem to remember is a blue gaze, a one-eyed, light blue gaze. But that may just be my imagination” he said with a sigh of frustration. “For all these years I was dreaming of the day I would find out who my family used to be, and what happened to them, but now that I did I wish I would have never heard anything about this.”

“But yet here it is, the opportunity you have been waiting for” Bilbo said carefully. “You should at least think about it, Thorin.”

“Don’t call me that” the dwarf spat out angrily, finally meeting Bilbo’s gaze for a fleeting second. “That is not my name, not for you” he said looking away again. 

“It is the name you were given at birth, it’s a part of your identity” Bilbo said gently. “but I can continue to call you Isengrim, if you wish.”

Thorin turned slowly to look at him, and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“You will still be my little Isengrim Baggins, no matter what” Bilbo said with a small smile, reaching out hesitantly to brush his son’s cheek. 

“Not so little anymore” Thorin replied, smiling back.

“You have to understand that this won’t change things between us, you are my son and always will be” Bilbo said turning serious again. “You don’t have to suddenly become someone else because of what you just learnt, nor do you have to agree to what Balin asked from you. But I want you to know that if you do, it would only be for a short meeting, of course you wouldn’t have to stay there with him” Bilbo said resolutely, trying to convince himself as much as Thorin. “And whatever you decide, you will have my full support. I will never let you down. It will be your choice, yours only, and I will respect it.”

Thorin looked away, nodding slowly, deep in thought.  
“I suppose you would advise me to decline Balin’s offer” he said after a while. Bilbo took a deep breath, knowing how much his next words would influence the young dwarf.

“You have an opportunity to meet your father, there may not be another one. He needs hope, and I think Balin is right, you can give him that. You owe him at least a short meeting, he is your father” Bilbo said slowly. Thorin stared at him, flabbergasted, his eyes wide in shock.

“But you are my father!” Thorin exclaimed with tearful eyes. “I don’t want to have anything to do with some king!”

“Calm down, my little one, hush now” Bilbo said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from the dwarf’s face, noticing the small, barely there smile that appeared on his face.

“I’m not little” Thorin replied with the exact same little pout he always had on his face when Bilbo called him that. The Hobbit smiled at that, relieved to see that some things never changed.

“You have been thinking about travelling for years now. I won’t hold you back if you want to leave now. I’ll tell you what, I will even come with you, if you want me to” the hobbit suggested, feeling suddenly less determined about this now that he had spoken it out. 

“I know you would” Thorin said looking away. “But you don’t have to. You have your life here in the Shire, while I never truly belonged here.”

“My life?” Bilbo said with a snort. “I have my home here, yes, and my books, my armchair, my garden, and I would miss it all terribly if I were to leave. It was enough to keep me happy for many years, before I met you. But what good would it be if you were to leave? What kind of happiness could I find in my home if there isn’t the sound of your heavy booted feet to distract me? What interest do I have in reading a book if I can’t discuss it with you afterwards? Where is the point of sitting in my armchair in front of the fireplace all by myself if you’re not sitting in your own armchair beside me telling me about you day? What good would I be in the garden if you’re not there to help me carry the water cans and make me laugh when you clumsily drop them on your own feet and end up all wet? Besides” he said lowering his voice to barely a whisper, “what kind of father would I be if I let you down now when you need my support and my presence?”

Bilbo angrily wiped out the tears that had started falling down his cheeks and looked away, sniffing loudly, inwardly cursing himself for getting so over emotional. 

“If I hold you back now you will hate me later for doing so” he said with a sigh.

He soon felt the weight of the dwarf’s head on his shoulder and he couldn’t help but smile, reaching up to run his hand through the black locks.

“Would you really do that? Would you run out of your door into the wild if I asked you to come with me? That would be something totally unrespectable” Thorin said teasingly, chuckling quietly.

“I may be a Baggins, but I’m also a Took” Bilbo replied with a snort. “Of course I would be stupid enough to do something like that. And it is a common trait to both Baggins and Took families to be very protective of their children, so get used to it, young one, because I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Besides someone would have to watch over you, make sure you dress up warm enough, eat properly and don’t go around bathing in ice cold streams!” he said playfully nudging Thorin.

“Please, not that again!” Thorin said pulling away with a faked hurt expression. “If you start mentioning this again I could also remind you how you jumped in the middle of the battlefield and killed an orc to save me” the dwarf replied with a sly grin.

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that” Bilbo said with a snort, crossing his arms with a stern expression, failing to appear serious with the smile that crooked the corners of his mouth.

They fell into a comfortable silence, gazing up at the stars, both still rather troubled by the disturbing news they had just learnt, but feeling somewhat better now that they had talked.

“I think I would like to see him, at least once” Thorin said quietly, not daring to look at Bilbo for fear of his reaction at those words, but the hobbit only sighed and shrugged.

“You don’t have to make a choice now, take some more time to think it over. It might turn out to be a painful experience for you, did you hear what Balin said about the state their king is in?”

“Father, I want to go” Thorin said holding his gaze, his face showing quiet determination. “You are right, it may be the only opportunity for me to meet him, and if I don’t go I will probably regret it later. He is grieving the death of his other son, my brother” Thorin said, finding it really strange to use those words to talk about someone he had never met, and never would. “If I can help him to get better, then I will, not only for him, but also for their folk.”

“You don’t have to do this, you don’t owe them anything!” Bilbo began to say, but Thorin shook his head.

“I know, but I want to go. I can’t just sit there when there are homeless people wandering through the wild, left to starve to death or die from the cold because of their leader’s helplessness. If my presence amongst them can bring them some hope, then I will go.”

“We will go” Bilbo rectified, making the young dwarf smile. “I guess we should go tell Master Balin of your decision” the hobbit said with a resigned sigh. Thorin nodded and they walked back inside the comfortably warm home, quietly making their way to the guest room Balin had disappeared into.

“He’s asleep” Thorin whispered, peering inside the room. “He’s even snoring” he added with a chuckle.

“I do not snore!” they heard Balin’s voice say, and the young dwarf blushed, turning to find a very awake Balin, pushing himself up on one elbow, glaring disapprovingly at Thorin.

“I’m sorry” Thorin said quietly, lowering his gaze to hide his growing grin. “I just wanted to inform you that I have decided to come with you and meet the king.”

“That’s good to hear” the older dwarf said with a warm smile, glancing at both the young dwarf and the hobbit. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”  
The dwarf lord suddenly frowned as his gaze caught something in Thorin’s hair.

“You might want to return this to my brother as soon as possible, young dwarf” Balin said sternly, pointing to the familiar silver clasp in Thorin’s raven black hair. “He has been missing it” he added, his frown deepening, even though there was an amused glance in his eyes. The young prince opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, his cheeks turning bright crimson as Bilbo stared at him in disbelief, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Come, our guest needs to rest” Bilbo said gently pulling Thorin out of the room, quietly closing the door. “Now young one, I think you have some explaining to do” The hobbit said, crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at the young dwarf with his best ‘disapproving father’ expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet most of you didn't see that one coming, I can't wait to see what you think of it!  
> More angst in this one... but there will be happier moments later I promise!  
> A big thank you goes to all of you wonderful readers who keep leaving me nice reviews, you are all such nice people!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was difficult to write, somehow it just wouldn't happen when I wanted so it's probably full of typos since it was finished in a rush, but I just couldn't wait to have your opinion on this part, there's just so much happening in this one, I'm really excited to see what you will think of it! I'm not satisfied at all with it, I'm not even sure why I post it at all if I'm not satisfied with it, but well... I hope it's not too bad, and if it is, I apologize in advance. Constructive criticism is welcome!

Chapter 8

When time came to finally leave Thorin found himself restless and eager to put as much distance as he could between the Shire and himself. He could see in Bilbo’s eyes regret, nostalgia and fear, while he felt none of these. He was simply relieved to leave behind a country he had never been able to call his own. The only reason he had stayed for so long was his father, the same father that had betrayed him, and even if it pained him to admit it he wished Bilbo would stay behind too, safe and happy in a land where he was wanted and loved.

He was slowly beginning to accept that he had another identity, that there was a family somewhere waiting for him, homeless people who he fully intended to help as best as he could. He wasn’t convinced that they would one day be a real family, maybe they wouldn’t even get along, they would probably reject a dwarf who behaved, dressed and ate like a hobbit and knew nothing of his own kind’s traditions and cultures, but he would at least try. 

Maybe it would be him who would reject them, he thought as he imagined what a king must be like, probably an arrogant being who thought himself better than anyone because of his name and title. 

There were a thousand unanswered questions troubling him, and as much as he was looking forward to meet more of his own kind, he dreaded an awkward meeting with an unknown father, but there would be time to worry about that. Right now he was only slowly started to get used to his new name, his new life. 

That was something he could accept, even if it was still painful and confusing for him. Bilbo’s betrayal was something else. The young dwarf had been in such a state of shock last night that he hadn’t even realized how much of a traitor the hobbit who claimed to be his father was. How could he pretend that he wanted to tell him when it had been three full years since Bilbo had known who he truly was?

“Are you alright?” He almost jumped at the voice; he hadn’t heard Bilbo approach him. He stared at the hobbit, unable to speak. Since when did it hurt so much to even look at is adoptive father? He felt like he was going to explode, he wanted to wipe that worried smile off the hobbit’s face, scream at him, maybe even hit him, but no words, no punches could express how bad he felt, and he only managed to shake his head slowly, bitter tears falling down his face. 

The hobbit was looking at him, obviously worried. Bilbo reached out to gently wipe away the tears but Thorin pulled away as if he had been slapped, and sent him a hateful glare.

“Traitor” he hissed and stormed off, wishing that he could find the right words to hurt Bilbo as much as he had hurt him.

“Give him some time, he will come around eventually” Balin said, gently laying a hand on Bilbo’s arm in a comforting gesture. “Come, we have a long way to go” he said with a sigh. Bilbo looked at him with empty, hollow eyes, and slowly nodded, swallowing back his unshed tears.

Their journey took them to the East, where they would travel until they met up with the exiled dwarves of Erebor, who were travelling in the opposite direction, from the Lonely Mountain towards the West.

“How long will it take?” Thorin asked Balin, more to break the uncomfortable silence than out of real curiosity.

“A couple of days, at most” Balin answered. “I went off ahead to find you, but they’re not too far off behind. They are travelling slowly, there are children and wounded dwarves amongst them” Balin explained with a somber expression. “But they are slowly but surely making their way towards us. We will probably see them in a couple of days.”

Thorin nodded, walking resignedly in silence. Bilbo was walking a few feet behind, staring at his feet, looking utterly broken and miserable. Balin sighed at the sight, silently blaming himself for both Bilbo and Thorin’s destroyed relationship. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about that, they would have to fix it themselves, and it looked like it would be some time until they even talked to each other again, the older dwarf thought, shaking his head sadly.

They walked until the sun was very low in the sky, choosing a small clearing in a wooden area to settle for the night. Balin gathered wood and lit a small fire before unrolling his cot on the ground under a tree. Bilbo unrolled his next to Balin’s while Thorin picked up his belongings and walked away. Bilbo immediately ran to him, grabbing his arm.

“Where are you going?” he asked weakly.

“Away from you” Thorin replied harshly, making the hobbit flinch.

“I know you’re upset” Bilbo said lowering his gaze, unable to hold Thorin’s reproachful glare. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you, I only wanted you to be happy” the hobbit said slowly.

“And you did such a good job of it” Thorin spat out bitterly. “Look how happy I am!” he said with a sarcastic laugh and yanked his arm free of Bilbo’s grip.

“Leave me alone” he hissed and walked away.

***  
After two days of a rather boring journey Thorin was delighted when they spotted the dwarven camp in the distance. He hadn’t spoken a single word to Bilbo since that first evening of the journey and avoided him, refusing to even meet his gaze. 

As they walked through the camp Thorin noticed the many gazes that were directed at him, curious eyes showing a mix of awe, delight, hope, and sometimes doubt. There were even a couple of dwarves who bowed to him respectfully, and the young dwarf couldn’t help but wonder if everyone already knew who he was. 

“The word has spread that the young prince was coming back” Balin explained with a mysterious smile. “And you look so much like your father that it’s not difficult to guess who you are.”

As they walked further through the many small fires around which the refugees were bundled up, looking for warmth, Balin exchanged a few words with other dwarves, answering questions, sometimes giving orders. Thorin noticed how they would always bow to the older dwarf, then bow deeper to him as their gazes fell on him, their eyes widening in realization. It felt strange to the young dwarf, and he was unsure how he was supposed to act around the other dwarves.

Further away in a secluded corner a small group of dwarves were gathered around a bony figure, sitting hunched against a tree. One of the dwarves spotted Balin and walked at a fast pace towards him.

“He has awoken” he told Balin, his face showing joy and hope. “He managed to sit up, and he even ate some broth” the healer announced proudly. He Looked to be a few years older than Thorin, probably around Balin’s age. 

“He knows” Balin said smiling at his cousin. 

Thorin gazed over at the hunched figure, and for a fleeting moment their gazes met. The other dwarf’s one eyed, haunting gaze sent shivers down his spine and he quickly looked away. But it was too late, that burning gaze wouldn’t leave his mind anymore, leaving him feeling empty, yet there was a yearning inside him, something that seemed to pull him to the other dwarf. His heart was beating at an alarmingly fast pace, making him feel dizzy.

“Come, it has been a long day and you need to rest” Balin told the young dwarf, noticing how he was staring at an all too familiar figure nearby. “Neither of you are ready yet for this, for now you will rest” he said gently leading him away. Bilbo followed them quietly, feeling more than a little uncomfortable in this unknown area, surrounded by so many dwarves. His instinct was screaming for him to run away, leave that place as fast as possible, it wasn’t as if he was wanted here; the dwarves kept staring at him with wide surprised eyes, most of them probably seeing a hobbit for the first time, wondering who he was and why he was here. It also didn’t help that Thorin still refused to talk to him; he hadn’t even met his gaze once since they had arrived at the camp. But he would stay, he had to, he thought determinedly.

Bilbo almost collapsed to the ground with a sigh of relief when they finally stopped in a small clearing. His legs were hurting from all the walking, he was dirty, exhausted and he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in a blanket and shut out the entire world, forget where he was, forget all those dwarves around him, and most of all forget that Thorin would soon meet his father. 

How this would go, he wondered. It would be a shock for the young dwarf, and it would certainly be painful for him if his father really was a mere ghost like Balin had described him. His gaze met the older dwarf’s who smiled softly at him.

“This looks like a good place for the night. Why don’t you just forget about all that’s bothering you for now? You need some rest” the dwarf said gently, looking worried.

“I think you’re right, it will do me no good to keep worrying” Bilbo said lowering his bag to the floor. “We have come this far, what happens tomorrow will happen tomorrow, and I will have more than enough time to worry about it when it comes to it” the hobbit said with a sigh.

He met Thorin’s gaze for a brief moment but the young dwarf looked away quickly, setting his own bag aside a bit further away from Bilbo’s. The hobbit sighed again, shaking his head. He couldn’t go on like this for much longer, Thorin’s refusal to talk to him was killing him. He would rather face his anger once again than be ignored like this, he thought and took a deep breath, searching for the right words to talk to his son.

Suddenly there was the sound of heavy booted feet coming towards them and Bilbo turned just in time to see the huge dwarven warrior enter their clearing.

“Here you are” he said in his usual gruffly tone, stopping right in front of his brother. His gaze immediately drifted to Thorin, leaving no doubt as to whom these words were addressed. The younger dwarf held the warrior’s gaze and offered a small nod. Bilbo couldn’t help but notice how tense Thorin suddenly seemed to be and he frowned, sending Dwalin his best glare. 

However the warrior didn’t even notice him as he was completely lost in that strange staring contest with Thorin, both determined not to break eye contact, like two wild cats observing each other, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness from the other to attack and deliver a killing blow. The mental image caused Bilbo to shudder and he looked up at Balin who was watching the scene with a small smile, obviously amused by all this. 

“I’m off hunting, we need some meat to feed everyone. Why don’t you come along and give me a hand?” Dwalin said finally breaking the long silence that had spread between them. Thorin stared at him, eyebrows raised in surprise at both the warrior’s unusual gentle tone and his odd choice of words for their first meeting after three long years without any news from the other dwarf. Thorin slowly nodded and was about to join the warrior when he suddenly remembered something.

“Just a minute” he said and quickly took his boots off, putting them next to his bag, much to the warrior’s amusement.

“That’s better, I almost didn’t recognize you with these boots” Dwalin said with a short chuckle. Thorin snorted but followed him, a bit too eagerly for Bilbo’s liking.

The two dwarves walked in silence for a long moment, wandering around the forest while looking around for any traces of animals and occasionally stealing glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

After a while Dwalin suddenly stopped and pointed at something, slowly crouching down. Thorin followed suit and looked in the direction the warrior pointed at, spotting a deer. He laid a hand on Dwalin’s arm and nodded shortly before silently making his way towards the oblivious animal.

The warrior wanted to either protest or grab the other dwarf’s arm to stop him but he stood completely still, mouth open in awe when he noticed how Thorin walked towards the deer without making a single noise. 

Thorin slowly walked forward, careful not to make any noise. He mentally congratulated himself for having left his boots at the camp; his bare feet, coupled with years of leaving amongst hobbits enabled him to walk around completely unnoticed. When he thought he was close enough he silently crouched down, pulled his small dagger from under his tunic, took a deep breath and aimed the weapon at the deer.

The dagger hit the animal in the side; the wounded deer jumped and ran away, leaving a satisfied dwarf behind. Thorin smiled proudly at Dwalin, who was joining him at a fast pace, and waited for the warrior to express his admiration.

“You have a terrible aim” Dwalin grumbled. “What were you expecting, to kill that deer with that little cheese knife? I bet the wound isn’t deep” he added and walked away, grumbling about how difficult it would be to find that deer again, and what a loss of fresh meat it had been. 

They walked for a while in silence, Dwalin leading the way, checking for any tracks in the mud, Thorin following close behind, his mood not improving in the least. He was tired, hungry, and upset at the warrior’s refusal to talk to him. Every time he attempted to exchange a few words with the other dwarf Dwalin would raise his hand to silence him, listening attentively to the smallest stirring of leaves. 

Thorin shook his head at how pointless it all seemed to be; the deer was long lost, they were probably lost too in the depths of that forest and the more time passed the more he was convinced that Dwalin was simply pretending to listen to something, using this as an excuse to avoid talking to him. There were so many unsaid things hanging between them, yet that strange feeling of awkwardness stopped them and neither of them seemed ready to start a conversation.

Suddenly Dwalin motioned for him to crouch down and the young dwarf was about to speak his mind about how useless this all seemed to be when he heard a low growl not too far away and he immediately hid behind a bush next to the warrior, his dagger in hand.

He carefully gazed between the leaves, holding his breath as he spotted a small group of orcs mounted on wargs. His eyes widened as realization hit him; Dwalin had been tracking this orc pack all along and he hadn’t even told him a word about this. Now they were stuck here with these foul beasts so close to them and he had nothing but his small dagger.

“Stay here” Dwalin said in a whisper, checking to make sure that Thorin was safely hidden before silently making his way behind one of the closest wargs. The younger dwarf’s eyes widened as he realized what the warrior was about to do and he frowned, not too happy about having been left behind. His grip on the dagger tightened; his instinct taking over as the warrior roared the mighty battle cry. In an instant the young dwarf was beside him, launching himself at an orc, stabbing him wildly until the foul creature moved no more.

The young dwarf moved swiftly from one orc to another, his moves faster than Dwalin’s but less precise. Finding himself into a battle for the second time only, Thorin was surprised to see how natural it felt to fight enemies; it felt as if he had been born to do this even though he had never had any weapon training. He overestimated his fighting skills –as well as the size of his weapon- when he launched himself at a warg, planting his dagger into the beast’s nose. The warg let out a loud roar and shook it head, sending the young dwarf into the mud. 

Thorin barely had time to look up to see the beast jumping at him, and he realized in horror that he had lost his dagger. He rolled over just in time to avoid being snapped in two pieces by the powerful jaws and he grabbed the nearest thing he could find. The warg was taken aback when his jaws closed around a branch instead of the tender meat of a dwarven limb. The beast tried his best to disarm his annoyingly stubborn victim but Thorin held on to the branch for dear life, blocking each attack effectively. 

He knew it would be only a matter of time before the branch snapped between the beast’s teeth and he desperately looked around for an abandoned weapon, becoming more and more desperate when he couldn’t find any. He didn’t see the war hammer coming out of nowhere, missing his head by mere inches before crashing into the beast’s body.

He let out a surprised yell as he was suddenly blinded and he quickly wiped out the sticky fluid from his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief when he noticed that the beasts had all been killed. Dwalin was standing beside him, staring at him with a smirk, obviously amused at the sight of the young dwarf covered in warg blood.

“You are a real dwarf now” Dwalin said with a chuckle. “Every dwarven warrior has at least once bathed in the blood of his enemy” he said with a chuckle and walked away. Thorin stood there puzzled before following after him.

“Where are you going?” he asked the warrior who was walking at a fast pace in the direction they had come from.

“Back to camp” the warrior replied. “It looks like this was an isolated orc pack, but I want to send lookouts to scout the area. These were too close to our camp for my liking.”

Bilbo almost fainted when he saw Thorin coming back covered in half dried blood and immediately rushed to him, pale as a ghost and worried out of his mind, asking so many questions at once that it made Thorin’s head spin.

“I’m alright” the young dwarf replied with a comforting smile. “This is warg blood. That brute almost smashed my head in with his hammer, he is the one responsible for this” he explained quietly, sending Dwalin a meaningful glare. Bilbo paled even more at the mention of wargs while Balin chuckled quietly, shaking his head, addressing his brother a few playful words in their own language to which the warrior replied with a grunt. 

“Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” Bilbo said, completely panicked as he checked the dwarf for any wounds.

“I already told you, I’m fine, really” Thorin repeated with a sigh, but he allowed Bilbo to carefully inspect him. Even if their relationship was difficult it was good to have someone who cared for him, Thorin thought as the hobbit fussed about his ruined clothing. The dwarf’s eyes followed Dwalin, who had moved to talk to a small group of warriors, obviously telling them about the orc pack they had encountered and giving them instructions to check the area and make sure that it was safe.

“You look like you need a good bath” Bilbo said once he was relieved to find out that Thorin was indeed unharmed, wrinkling his nose at the half dried blood on the dwarf’s skin.

“There’s a stream nearby, it’s a good place to wash up” Balin said, still smiling. Thorin nodded, only now noticing that he was still holding the branch he had used to fight off the warg. He stared at it for a moment, considering to just throw it away before he decided to keep it.

For some strange reason that oaken branch made him feel safe. It was bloody and bore the marks of the beast’s teeth, but if he cleaned it and cut it down so that it would be easier to handle maybe he could make a weapon out of it. He carefully laid it next to his bag and walked away, following the direction Balin had pointed. 

***

Thorin sat in the water, lost in his thoughts, enjoying the feeling of being clean again, watching all the warg blood being washed away by the current. He closed his eyes for a minute, enjoying the calming sound of the water; in that moment he was finally able to forget why he was here, forget the dreaded meeting that would soon take place, forget the tensions between his father and himself, even for a short moment. 

Unfortunately that moment didn’t last; the water was uncomfortably cold and he had to get out as soon as he was clean enough, all his worries immediately troubling his mind again once he was on the shore. He put on his tunic, shivering a bit, frowning when his gaze caught something in the trees.

“You were there the whole time” he said, more like a statement than a question, his hands frozen in their movement, his eyes glued on the other person.

Dwalin left the shadows of the trees and approached the young dwarf.

“Someone had to watch out for you” the warrior replied simply. “It’s not very wise to walk off alone unarmed when there might still be orcs around.” Thorin did indeed look vulnerable like this, wearing only his tunic, his hair still dripping wet, the guard thought with a sigh. He looked hesitant for a short moment, then awkwardly offered him his hammer. Thorin stared at him in confusion.

“Just take it” Dwalin said gruffly and shoved the large war hammer into the younger dwarf’s hands. Thorin stared at him, puzzled, before nodding shortly to the guard. 

“I thought you would never lend me one of your weapons again” he said with a sly smile.

“I said I would never give you my battle axes again. But this should be good enough for you. I can’t have you walking around defenseless” the guard grunted and shrugged. Thorin carefully put it away, feeling grateful for the other dwarf’s thoughtfulness. 

He grabbed the rest of his clothes, feeling suddenly uncomfortable to be scantily dressed in front of the guard, who didn’t seem to have any intention to look away. Dwalin kept staring at the younger dwarf with a little smirk, enjoying the blush that appeared on Thorin’s cheeks. The young dwarf turned away, clumsily fastening the laces of his breeches as quickly as he could.

Suddenly he was roughly grabbed by his hair and he let out a pained yelp as the guard pinned him against a nearby tree with a snarl.

“You thief! This is mine” he growled, painfully tightening his grip on the clasp in Thorin’s hair. The younger dwarf groaned and fought against the guard’s strong grip, kicking and struggling while the warrior attempted to remove his clasp from the black mane, his big fingers and Thorin’s incessant struggling not making things easier. The young prince fought back with all his strength, furious at the guard for trying to get back his clasp by force. Sure, it hadn’t been wise of him to steal it, but it was no reason for the other dwarf to be so brutal. Not that he would have given it back if the warrior had simply asked, Thorin thought with a smirk. 

Dwalin noticed too late that Thorin had managed to free one arm when he was hit squarely in the face, twice. He stumbled a bit at the pain, holding on to Thorin for balance more than to hold him captive. He quickly regained his wits and trapped the younger dwarf’s body with his own, letting out a furious growl. That arrogant little brat had the nerve to hit him when he could have simply let him get back what was his, but no, the idiot decided to lay it rough, and he was going to pay for this.

He raised his fist to deliver a strong, particularly painful blow but stopped midway when he noticed the brief flash of fear in Thorin’s eyes. It disappeared as soon as the younger dwarf noticed the warrior’s hesitation and he glared at him defiantly, daring him to hit him. 

The guard couldn’t hold back a smile at Thorin’s brashness, even when the younger dwarf was obviously overpowered he never gave up, very much like himself, Dwalin thought as he lost himself in the deep blue gaze mere inches away from his own face, and found himself unable to look away. He felt Thorin’s hands move ever so slightly, fisting into his tunic, giving it a brief tug. It was all it took for Dwalin to understand that he was irremediably lost.

The only warning Thorin got was the grip in his hair tightening even more before lips came crashing against his own. It tuned into a wild, rough battle for control, lips and teeth clashing, neither of them willing to surrender to the other. Dwalin pulled back, staring breathlessly at the younger dwarf, and slowly released his grip on the long black mane, his hands moving to gently cup Thorin’s face before he sealed their lips together again, surprisingly gently this time, giving the other time to adjust to the new, addictive sensation. The young prince kissed back eagerly, his head was spinning, he was moaning wantonly, which made Dwalin chuckle briefly every time one of those sweet sounds were heard. 

It was some time before they broke the kiss, panting, staring at each other incredulously, not quite realizing what had just happened. Dwalin wasn’t even aware that he was smiling when he gently stroke Thorin’s cheek with his thumb. The younger dwarf pulled his hands free and slowly undid the clasp in his hair and put it in the warrior’s tattooed hand, closing his fingers over it.

Dwalin grunted something that sounded like “took you long enough” and pulled away, braiding his beard and quickly fastened the clasp in it. 

“I have to find a healer to fix this, thanks to you” the warrior said gruffly, pointing to his broken nose which was still bleeding profusely and stormed off. Thorin stared after him with a smirk and picked up Dwalin’s hammer, looking at the beautiful motives engraved on it in awe. It was surprisingly refined and good looking for something that was used for war, not unlike its owner, Thorin thought with a smile. He almost rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and quickly grabbed the rest of his things, making his way back to camp. He was in no mood to put up with Bilbo’s worrying; it was probably best to go back before his absence was noticed.


	9. Chapter 9

Thorin was awoken by a furtive movement and he slowly opened his eyes to see a little dwarfling carefully inspecting the war hammer he was clutching in his arms, obviously intrigued by the massive weapon. Thorin stared at the toddler for a moment, unsure what to do. 

He sat up slowly so as to not frighten the dwarfling, who looked up at him with big blue eyes, staring back at him before stretching out his arms with a huge toothy smile. Thorin hesitated for a short second, then scooped up the dwarfling and put him in his lap. The golden haired dwarfling immediately cuddled to his chest and stuck his thumb into his mouth, peacefully sucking on it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Where do you come from? Where are your parents?” Thorin asked softly, gazing around for any sign of an adult nearby. He had settled in a more secluded area, a bit away from the other dwarves, and he was confused as to where this child suddenly came from. 

The dwarfling looked up at him and said nothing. Thorin immediately regretted asking that question; what if this child was an orphaned boy? Balin had said that many dwarves had died in Erebor when the dragon had attacked, and many more had been lost at the battle at the gates of Moria. What if this dwarfling’s entire family had been decimated?

Thorin shuddered at the thought and held the child closer to him, at a loss of what to do. In the morning maybe he could try asking around, maybe there was someone who knew the little dwarf?

“Oh no, don’t touch this, it’s not a toy!” Thorin exclaimed as the dwarfling tried to grab the big war hammer. “Besides it’s way too big for you” Thorin said gently, putting the weapon out of the dwarfling’s reach.

Thorin found himself wishing that Bilbo would be with him, he would know what to do. He had more experience dealing with little dwarves than he himself had, the young dwarf thought with a sad smile.

“Fili! I’ve been searching for you everywhere!” The sound made both Thorin and the little dwarf turn to see a rather tall dwarrowdam approaching, similar to Thorin in built, with long black hair and ice blue eyes. She was holding a baby cradled to her chest and looked relieved, yet somewhat angry at the dwarfling’s disobedience.

“You were not supposed to run away in the middle of the night! I was worried about you!” The dwarfling lowered his gaze at his mother’s scolding and shuffled close to Thorin.

“I’m sorry” she said with an apologetic smile as the little dwarf made no move to go back to his mother. He quietly sucked his thumb, looking up at Thorin with huge, pleading blue eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for” Thorin said gently. “Is he yours?” he asked, ruffling the little dwarf’s golden hair.

“Yes, these two little monsters are my sons” she said smiling, sitting down next to him, careful not to wake the sleeping baby in her arms.

“They don’t look like monsters” Thorin said smiling back.

“That’s because you don’t know them yet” the dwarf woman answered with a light giggle. “This one is Fili, my eldest” she said gently tucking a golden strand of hair behind the dwarfling’s ear. “And this is Kili” she said pushing the covers warpped around the baby so that Thorin could see a round face framed with a mop of dark hair. “And y name is Dis, I’m your sister” she said softly.

Thorin stared at her, speechless, totally taken aback. He blushed lightly when he realized that he didn’t even know that he had a sister.

“You know who I am” he said finally when the shock had passed.

“Everyone knows” she said with a little smile. “I’ve grown up listening to my father talking about his lost eldest son, it’s almost as if I have known you forever” she said with a sigh. “I was even jealous back when I was a child, I thought it was unfair that he talked so much about my long lost brother. It was as if your disappearance left a gaping hole in his heart, a hole nothing or no one seemed to be able to fill. I felt like his everlasting grief kept him from focusing on the present, and on his other children. 

Of course it was a childish reaction” she said with a light giggle. “But I feel better now that it’s out, and I’m really glad that you are no longer only a name, you are back with us now” she said gently squeezing his hand. “Back then I couldn’t understand why he kept grieving for you because I didn’t understand what it felt like to lose someone you love.”

The immense sadness in her eyes as she spoke these words broke Thorin’s heart, making him feel guilty for not having been able to be there for her like siblings would normally do.

“I’ve heard about your brother” he said softly, unable to meet her gaze. “He was too young to die.”

“He was” she said sadly. “My husband was too young to die too” she added with a sigh. “He was a good dwarf, brave, loving, and a good warrior. But he’s gone, and there’s no use crying for those we can’t bring back, right?” she said with a sad smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She brushed them away and cradled her baby closer to her chest, smiling as he sighed contentedly in his sleep. 

“I’m sorry” Thorin said in a whisper, internally rolling his eyes at himself for not being able to come up with a better choice of comforting words.

“I know you are” she said softly. “But I have my sons, and you are here now too. It’s best to go on and focus on those who are still there” she said with a small smile. “I’m sorry that this had to be so awkward, I didn’t mean to bring up all the sadness” she said shrugging.

“I don’t think a first meeting between siblings could be anything else than awkward” Thorin said smiling softly.

“Probably not” Dis replied with a chuckle. “Although it’s probably even more awkward for you, at least I heard tales of you while you didn’t even know I existed” she said, squeezing his hand again. “But that’s alright, you will get used to it. We will have time to make up for lost time. So, where have you been all these years?”

“In the Shire” Thorin replied slowly, amazed at how quickly the talkative dwarf woman had managed to push away the sadness and awkwardness. She seemed sincerely happy and curious to get to know him, and she was so nice to him and full of life that he couldn’t help but take an immediate liking to her. “I grew up amongst Hobbits” he said, watching as she frowned in confusion.

“What is a Hobbit?”

“Halflings” Thorin explained with a smile. “They are a peaceful folk who are fond of food and nature. I will introduce you to my father later on, I’m sure you will like him” he said proudly.

“Your father” she repeated, staring at him with incomprehension. 

“His name is Bilbo, he is the one who raised me” Thorin explained quietly. “He may not be a perfect father, but he took me home and adopted me when I was barely more than a baby, and for this I will be forever grateful. He is a gentle, caring person with a big heart” he said softly.

“That’s good to hear” she said smiling, but there was some bitterness in her voice. “I can’t say the same about my own father, although there is no doubt that he loves me, or at least he did before all these tragedies drove him mad, and he loved Frerin. But there was just too much for him to deal with” she said with a sigh. “My grandfather… our grandfather, he was mad with gold lust” she said sadly.

“So I’ve heard” Thorin said nodding slowly. “Balin said the king thought about nothing but his gold and riches.”

“He did” Dis replied looking away. “It was hard for us to see him like this, and it was even harder for my father to have to take care of all business related to the kingdom while watching his father become crazier with every day passing. The king was even violent with him sometimes, although my father kept denying it. I didn’t grieve for him when he fell on the battlefield” she said bitterly. “I did grieve for those I loved who died there, because their death was unfair. But I wasn’t sad when I heard that the king was dead.”

Thorin stared at her, impressed by the strength she possessed, so wise and tough despite her youth. She looked barely of age, and if it wasn’t for her two sons Thorin might have mistaken her for a stripling.

“I’m scared” he said quietly, gently running his fingers through Fili’s golden mane. “I’ve come all the way from the Shire to meet him, but now I’m not sure if I really want to do so.”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to” she said softly. “You can ask for more time if you want to reconsider your decision. What are you afraid of?” she asked, lightly tilting her head to the side.

“Many things” he said with a shrug. “That he won’t recognize me, or that he will think that I’m too different from him, and from the other dwarves.”

“He will recognize you” she said with a smile. “Of that I’m sure. He has shut himself from the rest of the world since the battle, refusing to talk to anyone, refusing to eat, not reacting to touches or words. It was as if he couldn’t hear or see anything around him, until a few days ago. He is awakening, Thorin. He knows you’re here. I can come with you if you want me to, when you will go see him.”

“I would like that very much, thank you” he said with a nod and a grateful smile.

“It’s nothing” she said waving it off with her hand. “That’s what a sister is supposed to do” she said smiling at him. “I will bring these two monsters to bed now, it’s late.”

“You will wake him!” Thorin protested as she reached to take the sleeping dwarfling from his arms. “He has just fallen asleep, why don’t you let him sleep here? I don’t mind, and you can stay too with little Fili” he said with a hopeful smile.

“Actually this one is Kili” Dis said laughing lightly. “Why does everyone have to mess up their names?” she said rolling her eyes. “And thank you for your offer, but I don’t think there will be enough space for everyone on this cot.”

“It will be enough for you and your sons, I don’t think I will get any sleep tonight anyway” Thorin said moving a little to the side to make enough space for Dis and the boys.

“Don’t trouble yourself too much with worry” she said giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You will only be a short moment with him, and you won’t have to see him again after that if you don’t want to.”

He smiled at her, nodding gratefully, and let her lay down on his cot with the baby while he sat under a tree, the dwarfling comfortably sleeping in his arms. He had tried to carefully lay him down next to his mother but the little dwarf’s hands were clutching his tunic and even in his sleep he refused to let go. Thorin didn’t really mind, it was nice to have a small, warm body to hold, the toddler’s even, deep breathing having a much welcome soothing effect on him.

The morning came too quickly for his liking, and Thorin was startled to see the sun already up in the sky when he opened his eyes. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, but he didn’t feel much rested. The little dwarf in his lap was happily babbling nonsense while playing with his uncle’s braids. Thorin watched him with a smile on his lips and remained completely still, unwilling to disturb the child when he was obviously having so much fun.

Unfortunately that peaceful moment didn’t last and the moment he had dreaded for so long had finally come. Before he knew it Dis was gently leading him to a clearing away from the rest of the camp. It was a quiet place, perfect for the circumstances. A small fire had been lit and a few sheets were spread on the ground. Thorin’s heartbeat quickened as he spotted the very still form laying on the blankets. He had already been moved there.

Thorin’s head was spinning and he suddenly felt a bit sick. Dis was instantly by his side, whispering encouraging words, shooing away any intruders until it was only the both of them, and the king. He didn’t actually look like a king at all, Thorin thought as he walked closer, watching the skinny, ghostly pale dwarf curled up on the ground.

Dis had to practically drag him the last few steps and made him sit next to their father while she took place on his other side and gently helped him to a sitting position.

“He is here, father” she said softly, touching Thrain’s face in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness. “Thorin is here” she added, taking her brother’s hand and gently placing it in Thrain’s hand.

Thorin’s heart stopped beating for a second at the contact. He watched silently as the older dwarf blinked slowly. It was difficult to tell whether he was still staring into emptiness, unaware of what was going on around him, or if he was slowly coming to his senses.

“Look, he is here, he is back” Dis said softly, as if she was talking to a frightened child. Thorin slipped a small golden bracelet in Thrain’s hand and gave it a brief squeeze. That seemed to catch the older dwarf’s attention. He opened his hand and stared at the tiny, shiny bracelet, and suddenly burst into tears.

“It’s alright, I’m here” Thorin said awkwardly laying his hand on the older dwarf’s arm, wincing at the contact of the skinny limb. His face, arms and body looked way too thin, his skin as pale as a corpse, and Thorin couldn’t help but wonder when he had last eaten something.

“It’s me, I’m back” Thorin said again, running his hand over Thrain’s arm up to his shoulder, then on his back on small, soothing circles very much like Bilbo used to do with him as a child.

The older dwarf slowly turned his gaze to his son. His emaciated, ghostly white face caused Thorin to shudder. His intense gaze made the young dwarf shift uncomfortably. His right ice blue eye was watching him intently, while there was only a hole where the left eye used to be.

Thrain slowly lifted his hand, reaching out to touch Thorin’s face, but stopped midair, as if he was afraid that his hand would touch nothing, that this wasn’t real. Thorin leaned forward a little until his cheek made contact with the raised hand. 

Thrain pulled his hand away, startled, then slowly, hesitantly brushed the back of his hand against Thorin’s cheek. He pulled back again, staring at the young dwarf incredulously. He reached out gain and touched his hair, his arms, his strong legs and his bare feet as if he was trying to convince himself that Thorin was real.

“Thorin” he said in a whisper, his voice rough from not having spoken for months. “Thorin, my lad” he said, his face breaking into a wide smile.

“It’s me” Thorin said softly. “I’m here, I’m back” he said again, at a loss of words. The strange dwarf was making him uncomfortable, almost scaring him, but there was something familiar about him, even though he couldn’t point out what it was. 

The more he looked at the pale face, the long, tangled grey mane and bushy beard, the more he felt like he was staring at a total stranger. Yet his increasing heartbeat, along with the indescribable feeling in his gut told him that this dwarf was no stranger. 

Suddenly he was pulled in a tight embrace and ended up with a mouthful of dirty grey hair. He tried to pull back but the strong arms wouldn’t let him. He remained perfectly still, stiff and uncomfortable. He wanted to tell the other dwarf to let go of him but the grip was so tight that he could barely breathe. He managed to take a deep breath and suddenly froze. He hesitantly sniffed at the grey hair again, then again and again. There it was, that familiar smell. The smell of comfort, of safety, of love. He remembered.

The hand in his hair was gentle, stroking the long locks slowly, almost hesitantly, as if Thrain was afraid that if he touched too boldly his long lost son would disappear again. Thorin closed his eyes and for a brief moment he was a child again, feeling safe and comfortable in his father’s strong embrace.

***

Dwalin raised his eyebrows as Thorin sat down next to him, staring into the fire with a thoughtful expression. The warrior waited for him to talk first, but the younger dwarf seemed content to just sit there quietly.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Dwalin asked awkwardly, staring at the axe in his lap. It was already clean but he picked it up again and began to scrub it again, his gaze stubbornly fixed on the shiny metal.

“It felt strange, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought” Thorin said with a deep sigh. The warrior snorted at those words, but said nothing.

“Anything else?” he asked when it seemed that Thorin was again lost in his own thoughts. The young prince stared at him blankly, wondering why the guard was suddenly so curious to hear about that deeply troubling experience.

“It’s still fresh in my mind, give me time to get used to the thought that it actually happened” Thorin said a bit too harshly, feeling immediately bad about it when he saw the hurt expression on the warrior’s face.

“Do you think it’s easy for me?” Dwalin snapped at him. “It’s not like I was the one to come to you to talk about that, you brought it up” he said angrily. Thorin’s mouth opened in shock at these words.

“What do you mean I brought it up? As far as I remember you asked if I wanted to talk about it!”

“Yes, well you show up here with that pretty face of yours, don’t act as if you didn’t come to sit here next to me precisely because you wanted to talk to me!”

“So now you’re saying I shouldn’t have talked to you? You’re not making any sense” Thorin said rolling his eyes.

“Of course we need to talk about this, but I thought you would at least have made up your mind on this! You don’t even know whether you liked it or not, or if you want to try it again, so what am I supposed to think?” Dwalin yelled angrily, throwing the axe away, making the younger dwarf jump slightly.

“Don’t yell at me” Thorin hissed. “And I already told you that I need more time to think about it, it just happened and it was a rather short meeting, you can’t ask me to already decide whether I want to see him again or not! It’s none of your business anyway, so why do you even ask?” Thorin replied angrily, glaring at the warrior who watched him with a mix of confusion, surprise and relief as realization hit him.

“Oh, you were talking about your meeting with Thrain” he said with a chuckle, nodding to himself in sudden understanding.

“And what else do you think I was talking about?” Thorin said, staring at him in disbelief.

“Nothing, forget about it” Dwalin said, chuckling lightly, obviously very amused by something Thorin didn’t understand. “So what about that meeting then?” the warrior asked casually.

“You know what, you forget about it, you crazy lunatic” Thorin said with a deep, exasperated sigh and stormed away angrily. He only had the time for a couple of steps before the warrior grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Wait, I wanted to give you this” Dwalin said awkwardly handing Thorin a sword and an axe. “I didn’t know which one to choose since you technically don’t have a weapon of choice, so I thought maybe you could have one of each. I could teach you how to use these” he added quickly, offering the younger dwarf a shy smile. Thorin had to hold back his laughter at this; the huge, muscular guard’s sudden shyness was quite a surprising sight.

“Thank you” Thorin said softly. “These are beautiful weapons.”  
Dwalin grunted his agreement and carefully unsheathed the sword, holding out the delicate engravings on the shin blade for Thorin to see.

“What do these mean?” Thorin said, staring at the beautiful angular runes. Dwalin chuckled at that question, then suddenly cleared his throat, blushing a bit as he remembered that Thorin couldn’t read the dwarves’ secret language.

“This is something I will have to teach you as well” Dwalin said with a smile. “This means Deathless, in reference to Durin the first. I thought it would be a fitting name for a weapon meant for a prince of Durin’s line.” 

“Did you make these yourself?” Thorin said, eyes huge with amazement.

“Of course I did” Dwalin said with a shrug. “Oh, right, you don’t know how to do that either” the warrior said with a sigh. “You really don’t have much of a real dwarf in you. But that’s fine, I’d rather think of you as a Hobbit anyway” Dwalin said with a sly smile. “My favorite Hobbit” he added, receiving a deathly glare in return.

“This is a fine weapon”, Dwalin said holding out the sword again, eager to distract Thorin from his murderous thoughts. “A weapon worthy of a king.”

“I’m no king” Thorin said sheathing the sword, his gaze lingering on the beautiful gems decorating the pommel. 

“But you will be king one day, that is why you came” Dwalin said with a hopeful smile. 

“I only came here to meet my father” Thorin said with a frown. 

“You are here because we need a strong leader” Balin said, causing both of them to jump in surprise. They looked at each other with confusion; how long had Balin been watching them?

“That was the plan, but you didn’t know it” the older dwarf said with a shrug as if it wasn’t anything serious.

“You didn’t tell him” Dwalin said, glaring at his brother accusingly. “How could you bring him here and not even tell him?”

“He would never have accepted if I had told him straight away” Balin said holding the warrior’s gaze. “And I suggest you stay out of this, unless you want his family to know what you have been up to” the older dwarf said gazing at the weapons in Thorin’s hands. 

“Have you even told him what it means for a dwarf to be given a weapon? Of course you didn’t” he said grinning at Dwalin’s sudden blush. “Which means that you have nothing to tell me about keeping things secret. Now let me take care of this” he said waving his younger brother off. 

Dwalin glared at him, not too happy to be ushered away like a child when his mind was screaming for him to stay with Thorin, but his older brother’s stern gaze made it clear that his presence wasn’t wanted. His hand made contact briefly with Thorin’s arm and their gazes met for a fleeting second before Dwalin resignedly walked away. 

“So you have been lying to me too” Thorin said staring at the older dwarf in disbelief. 

“You have seen Thrain, and how useless he is as a leader” Balin replied with a sigh. “You are his heir, and our only hope. The dwarves of Erebor need someone who can lead them to safety, someone who will be strong enough to build a new kingdom for them.”

“I didn’t even grow up amongst them, I know very little about dwarven culture and I’m terrible with weapons. No one here will want me as a leader” Thorin said quietly, to which Balin raised his eyebrows.

“My brother told me that you are a brave and fierce fighter. You will have time to practice more. And you are of the line of Durin, they will respond to that. They will follow you, my lad. And I will be here to give you advice whenever you need it” the older dwarf said with a kind smile.

“You can’t put the weight of the responsibility of your people on my shoulders” Thorin exclaimed, unable to believe that Balin would ask such a thing of him. “I’m sorry, but I’m not the right dwarf for this.”

“You are Thrain’s son, it is your duty” Balin said sternly. “You don’t have much of a choice, my lad. Would you rather go back in the Shire to hide in a hobbit hole and work as a gardener? That life isn’t for you. It is your fate to become our king.”

“You want me to do this for the sake of your people, and Bilbo wants me to live with him in the Shire for the sake of his paternal love, but neither of you even cared to ask for my opinion! Is there even anyone here who cares about what I want? I will let no one choose what my fate will be” Thorin spat out and stormed off, boiling with anger.

He didn’t even remember how he ended up in the middle of the forest, kneeling on a soft carpet of dead leaves, staring into empty space. His anger had subsided, replaced by a feeling of emptiness and betrayal. He didn’t even hear the heavy footsteps until they were right behind him. Thorin sighed deeply, his shoulders hunched at the thought of having to listen again to Balin’s pleas when he was in the mood for just being alone.

“Is it wise for a prince to be lost in an unknown forest on his own?”

Thorin frowned at the unknown voice and turned to see a tall figure standing in the shadow of a tree. He was slightly hunched, resting his weight on a wooden staff, and a large hat shadowed his face, hiding it from view.

“Who are you? Do I know you?” Thorin asked, slowly standing up, his eyes never leaving the other person. Suddenly he regretted wandering in the forest with no weapons.

“I have been watching you from a distance for years now, but I never had an occasion to meet you in person until now” the tall figure replied, and the dwarf could hear a small smile in his voice. 

“And why would a man watch me with so much interest?” Thorin said, observing the stranger warily.

“I am no man” the figure said with a mysterious smile. “I’m a wizard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope most of you already know who that mysterious figure is!  
> And yes, I know Thorin probably seems a bit out of character here but my headcanon is that he was probably very insecure when he was younger, and only time and experience made him the charismatic leader he became later.
> 
> This was such a hard thing to write, with all the emotions and angst... I can't wait to see what you think of it!  
> Again a big thank you goes to those who always take the time to leave a review. You are awesome!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long delay... I feel like I've let my readers down and I apologize for it but I happened to have a huge writer's block which just wouldn't leave me alone, not to mention real life getting in the way. I actually had a big part of this one written for a while but I couldn't finish it properly... Anyway after going to see Desolation of Smaug on wednesday (one of the good things about living in France, I got to see it two days before everyone else!) inspiration seemed to just come back and since I still intend to continue this one here is finally a new chapter, if there are still a few of you interested in this story!

Chapter 10

“Is it common for wizards to just show up out of nowhere?” Thorin said, his gaze not leaving the grey figure.

“It is undoubtedly more common than barefoot dwarves” the wizard replied, raising his bushy eyebrows in amusement. 

“Why are you here?” Thorin asked suspiciously.

“Because you need to talk to someone who can bring an answer to your questions.” Gandalf answered simply. “You are torn between two cultures, and it will not get better until you learn to accept that both are part of who you are.”

“Who are you, and how do you know so much about me?”

“I already answered that, Master Dwarf” Gandalf said, looking annoyed. “I am a wizard, and I know many things. I would suggest that you ask important questions instead of wasting my time with nonsense.”

Thorin lowered his gaze and sat down on the ground, too dazed to be upset by the wizard’s harsh tone. The emotional turmoil he had been thrown in for the last few days were taking its toll on him, leaving him feeling empty and numb.

“I have no idea who I truly am, or what I really want” the young dwarf said slowly.  
Gandalf nodded, staring at him intently.  
“Yes, go on” he said with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Everyone wants something different from me, but how am I supposed to either live a peaceful life in the Shire or be the leader the exiled dwarves of Erebor are in need of when I can’t even figure out what I want for myself?”

“You need to answer that first question before you can even think about the other ones” Gandalf said gently. “You can’t pretend to decide what your future will be until you have come to understand your past and your present. I may have some answers concerning your past.”

The wizard sat down under a tree, took out his pipe and made himself comfortable, blowing smoke rings while Thorin watched him in disbelief.

“You have already heard of your grandfather’s gold madness, but you may not know of the many conspiracies that were formed against him. Many dwarves were convinced that the kingdom was about to fall due to Thror’s madness and they were determined to deny him and the line of Durin the right to rule. You were abducted by a group of such dwarves who had planned to use you as a hostage to force Thror to give up the throne. But you escaped” Gandalf said with a small smile. “I’m not sure where they planned to keep you captive, probably as far away from Erebor as possible, but you managed to run away.”

“And this is when Bilbo found me” Thorin said deep in thought. He could barely remember that moment now, but somehow it made sense. He had always wondered how he had ended up in the Shire, and now he knew the truth, although it was a small comfort to him.

“How is this supposed to help me decide what to do?” Thorin said bitterly. 

“Doesn’t it fill some blanks from your past? Knowing your past will help you know yourself. Once you know who you are you will be able to make a choice” the wizard said slowly, as if he was explaining something evident to a stubborn child.

“And how exactly do you suggest that I do that?” Thorin said with a frown. He had been talking to the wizard for barely a couple of minutes and he was already losing his patience. Gandalf’s answers were not what he was looking for, and he couldn’t see how this was supposed to be of any help.

“What does your heart tell you?” Gandalf said, staring intently at the dwarf.  
Thorin almost rolled his eyes at him for answering his question with another question.

“Nothing at all” he spat out bitterly. “Emptiness is all I feel right now, and the only thing I want to do is run away from everyone and everything.”

“Maybe you should just follow your instinct” Gandalf replied quietly.

“That’s what you suggest me to do, to run away?” Thorin said with a sarcastic laugh. That sounded so absurd, and very unlikely to solve his problems.

“Sometimes you need to take a step back to decide which path to choose” the wizard said with an enigmatic smile.

***

Dwalin awoke with a start, blinking around confusedly. His first thought was to punch some sense into whoever had dared to wake him up in the middle from a peaceful, well-earned rest after having been on watch for two nights in a row. That warg attack had troubled him deeply, and he had kept a watchful eye on the area despite having sent lookouts, refusing to sleep until he was entirely sure that it was safe for them to stay here.

His lack of sleep also had to do with a certain someone whose deep blue gaze would haunt his thoughts whenever he close his eyes. He was even more puzzled to find said blue eyes staring straight into his own. He blinked again to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and frowned when he noticed the determination in Thorin’s eyes.

The younger dwarf silently stood up and indicated with a tilt of his head that he expected the warrior to follow him. Dwalin’s frowned deepened but he followed the younger dwarf nonetheless. The guard’s mouth opened in shock when Thorin stopped in front of two ponies.

“What are you doing?” the warrior whispered, even though they were far enough from the camp for anyone to be able to hear him.

“Abducting you” Thorin replied with a sly smile.

“Me?” Dwalin said with a chuckle. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe” Thorin said smiling back. His face suddenly turned serious, and he stared at the other dwarf with a mix of sadness and determination.

“I am running away” he said quietly, looking away for fear of seeing hurt and incomprehension on the guard’s face.

“Why? Where to?” Dwalin exclaimed, not believing what he had just heard. 

“It doesn’t matter” Thorin replied, looking up to meet his gaze. “I’m running away and you are going with me.”  
Dwalin stared at him in shock for a second before bursting into laughter.

“You really are a strange one” he said still chuckling. “Why would I want to follow you?”

“Because I am a prince, and I cannot wander into wilderness alone. I need a guard, and I have chosen you.”  
Thorin jumped on his pony without waiting for an answer and stared at Dwalin expectantly. The warrior sighed and mounted the other pony, resignedly following the younger dwarf. He had a bad feeling about this; running away in the middle of the night couldn’t be a good idea by any stretch of the imagination, but he kept quiet for the moment being. At least Thorin hadn’t decided to run away alone.

They rode for a few hours in silence, determined to put as much distance as possible between them and the camp before sunrise. It was almost dawn when Thorin decided to make a short pause and rest their mounts before continuing any further. Dwalin lit a small fire and Thorin sat down anxiously waiting for the warrior to start questioning him. Surprisingly the guard remained silent, gazing at the fire thoughtfully. The younger dwarf stole a furtive glance at him from time to time, but the guard would send him a blank gaze and shrug.

“You can talk to me if you want to” Thorin said somewhat bitterly after a while. As much as he had been dreading having to explain his crazy idea to the guard he found out that Dwalin’s silence was even worse, and he still hadn’t spoken a single word to him since they had left the camp.

“I don’t mind you asking me questions, I know you want to” he added when the warrior looked at him questioningly. 

“Fine” Dwalin said with a sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me your real name when we first met?”  
Thorin stared at him totally taken aback. That was one question he hadn’t been expecting, and the accusing glare the warrior sent him made him uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know who I really was back then” Thorin said quietly. “Not that I know more now” he added bitterly. “But that doesn’t change anything, I don’t expect you to treat me like royalty.”

“Maybe you don’t, but others do” Dwalin replied with a stern glance.

“What does it matter, there isn’t anyone here to judge us” Thorin said looking intently at the other dwarf. Dwalin held his gaze and nodded slowly, deep in thought, wondering just how much those words were supposed to mean.

“I think Balin knew from the start who you were” Dwalin said quietly. “Or at least he had suspicions. I didn’t even recognize you” he said with a chuckle. “But then you’ve changed a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked, frowning. “We haven’t met before.”

“We have, but you were too young to remember” Dwalin said with a smile. “My father was Prince Thrain’s personal guard, as well as his advisor and closest friend. He trusted him with his life, and it was only logical that he would choose his sons as playmates for the little prince.”

“Does this mean that we played together as children?” Thorin asked incredulously, a little smile appearing on his lips at that thought.

“We did” Dwalin replied. “And you were quite a princely brat as far as I remember” Dwalin said with a chuckle. “You always wanted everyone to obey your every whim and you would start screaming and crying every time I disagreed with you. You would always make me play the orc and you always wanted to be the dwarf king.”

“And you would let me?” Thorin said quietly, shuffling closer to the other dwarf.

“I did, at least the first few times.” Dwalin turned to meet Thorin’s gaze, staring at him intensely. “Until I had enough and decided to give you a real reason to cry.”  
Thorin chuckled and looked away, shaking his head. He could totally imagine a younger Dwalin, kind and caring to those he loved, but always ready to use his fists to make a point if necessary. 

“I didn’t recognize you right away, but there was that strange feeling when you were around, like I had known you forever. Now I know where it came from.”  
Their arms accidentally touched and they both looked away, embarrassed even though it was only a brief contact.

“Balin told me about your father’s death” Thorin said softly. “I’m sorry.”  
Dwalin nodded slowly, looking suddenly sad, making Thorin regret having mentioned this.

“He was a brave warrior, and he died in honor. He had an undying loyalty to your father; he died defending him. He took a deathly blow that was meant for the prince.”

“I’m sorry” Thorin repeated, shuddering when his hand made contact with the warrior’s bigger one. He hadn’t even noticed his own hand reaching out for the other dwarf, and he pulled away, blushing lightly. Dwalin remained silent for a while, gazing at the fire.

“I wouldn’t mind dying like that” he said quietly. “I think I could give my life to protect someone” he added thoughtfully.

“Don’t make it sound like it’s something heroic” Thorin said with a snort. “It is a guard’s duty to protect his king.”

“It is” Dwalin replied with a little smile. “But that’s not what I meant.”  
Thorin looked away and pulled out his sword, pretending to admire the shiny blade, anything to drop the subject that was suddenly making him uncomfortable.

“What did Balin mean about giving weapons?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing” Dwalin answered a little too quickly. “I gave you one so that you have something to defend yourself with, the roads aren’t safe these days” he said looking away, obviously embarrassed. “It’s not like there’s a hidden meaning, it’s just a sword” he added with a forced grin. 

“Of course, it’s nothing more than a weapon” Thorin said with a disappointed sigh, sheathing the sword again. He wasn’t sure what kind of answer he had been expecting, but complete denial wasn’t what he had hoped for. “I guess Balin was mistaken when he said that.”

“Porbably” Dwalin replied gruffly, obviously unwilling to bring this up again. “Speaking of my brother, he will certainly be livid when he finds out that you disappeared.”

“I know. Bilbo will not be happy either” Thorin replied with a sigh. He could imagine how worried the hobbit would be when he couldn’t find the young dwarf anywhere. 

“I thought you didn’t care about him” Dwalin said with a questioning gaze.

“Of course I do, he is my father” Thorin replied defensively. “But I have had enough of everyone keeping secrets from me, I don’t trust him anymore.”  
Dwalin nodded in silence, not wishing to push it any further since it was still a sensitive topic for Thorin.

“We should move on” the warrior finally said, rising to his feet to pack up their things. He watched as Thorin nodded and went to get the ponies, walking slowly, almost resignedly. 

“Where are you taking us?” the young prince asked as he mounted his pony, handing the other one’s reigns to Dwalin.

“Somewhere where no one will ever find you” the guard replied with a mysterious smile. Thorin opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when he realized that he didn’t really care where they were going, as long as he would be away from both Hobbits and his kind. 

***

“That orc pack you encountered in the forest was far too close to our camp for my liking, obviously we have been staying here for too long. This place isn’t safe anymore, we need to move soon. Make it known to our people that we will be leaving tomorrow at first light.”

The young guard nodded; however there was a frown on his face.

“Where to, my lord?”

“Further to the West, I suppose” Balin replied with a sigh. “We will find somewhere safe to build our new home” he added with a smile when he noticed the guard’s shoulders slump in defeat.

The guard nodded slowly and was about to leave when Balin called him back.

“Find the young Prince, make sure that he is safe” he said quickly. “Where is your captain?”

“I don’t know, my lord. I haven’t seen him since earlier in the evening.”

“See if you can find him, I need him to help prepare our departure.”  
The young guard nodded and bowed shortly before taking his leave.

“Master Balin?”  
The counselor jumped in surprise, his expression softening when he spotted the Hobbit standing nearby, looking unsure.

“You Hobbits truly are surprising creatures, walking around so quietly. I didn’t even hear you approach” Balin said with a soft smile. However Bilbo’s worried expression caused him to frown. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked softly. The Hobbit looked away, obviously agitated. Balin’s frown deepened when he saw that Bilbo’s hands were slightly shaking.

“Thorin still refuses to talk to me” Bilbo admitted with a sad sigh. “I haven’t seen him since we arrived here, he has been avoiding me all the time. I didn’t even get a chance to ask him how his reunion with the king went” he said in a broken voice.

“It was undoubtedly a shock for him. Give him some time, he will come around eventually.”

“I sincerely doubt that he will” Bilbo said somewhat bitterly. “He has another family now, why would he need me anymore?”

Balin let out a loud sigh, offering the Hobbit a sad smile. The counselor sat down near the fire, motioning for the Hobbit to do the same.

“It was bound to happen” Bilbo said after a moment of silence. “I knew I would lose him when time would come for him to meet other dwarves. I can hardly blame him for that though, I would have probably acted the same way if it had been the other way around. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life amongst dwarves, it’s only natural that Thorin would never want to stay in the Shire.”  
There was a bittersweet sadness in his voice that almost made Balin reach out for a comforting touch but he decided against it and let Bilbo go through with his thoughts. The Hobbit was surprised to feel somewhat better now that the words were out. It didn’t ease the aching in his heart but it seemed clearer now that he had said it, like an evidence that he could no longer keep denying.

“We will be leaving tomorrow in the morning” Balin said softly so as not to startle Bilbo out of his thoughts. “We need to find a safe place for our people. However I promise you that I will escort you back to the Shire and see that you return safely to your home. You are lucky enough to have a home, and you should make the best of it and go on with your life. You are a kind and caring person Master Baggins, and I would rather know you are safe and well in the Shire than have you accompany a bunch of homeless dwarves wandering the wilderness.”

Bilbo looked genuinely surprised by those words even though he had been thinking of going back home even since he had first left the Shire. Balin was right, obviously he didn’t belong here with them, and as sad as he was to leave them to fend for themselves there wasn’t much a Hobbit could do to help them.

“That is a very kind offer, and I wasn’t expecting any less from you” Bilbo said after thinking it over for a couple of short minutes. “I think it is indeed time that we go back home.”  
His face spontaneously lit up and a small smile appeared on his face at the mention of home. The smile vanished in an instant when he saw the frown on the dwarf’s face.

“I think it would be best if you left Thorin here with us” Balin said carefully. Bilbo opened his mouth to protest, to tell the counselor that he would never leave without his son but the calm resolution on Balin’s face made him close his mouth again, staring at the dwarf in silent shock.

“Your place is in the Shire, leaving a peaceful life amongst your kind, just like it is Thorin’s place to be here. He belongs amongst us” Balin said with a determined tone in his voice.

“He didn’t tell me anything about wanting to stay” Bilbo said with a frown. There was something unusual about Balin’s usually calm and friendly behavior, something that Bilbo couldn’t quite define.

“You two haven’t been too close recently” Balin said matter of factly, offering the Hobbit a comforting smile. Bilbo could only manage a small nod, the lump in his throat keeping him for uttering a single word.

“I am sure he meant to tell you, but he feared your reaction. He knew his decision would hurt you, which is why I suggested to him that I would talk to you. It is not easy for him to have to tell you this, Mater Baggins. Thorin cares for you and loves you like a son would love his father, but it is time for him to follow his own path. He wants to be amongst his kin, and I can assure you that he will be looked after like someone of his rank deserves to be.”

“I can’t just leave like this” Bilbo said shaking his head, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. “I can’t abandon him to a life of wandering, I have to talk to him, convince him to come with me” Bilbo said resolutely, already standing up to go in search of his son. Balin’s gentle but firm hand held him back, making the Hobbit narrow his eyes at the dwarf suspiciously. 

“He cannot be happy in the Shire, we both know this” Balin said softly. “You have to let him go.”  
Bilbo lowered his gaze, unable to speak. Of course Balin was right, Bilbo himself had been aware of Thorin’s happiness for some time yet it seemed he still wasn’t ready to accept it. As much as he knew that it was every child’s destiny to eventually leave his parents and live his own life he couldn’t quite accept that this was exactly what was about to happen. 

There was a special bond between him and his adopted son, a bond that the lonely bachelor in him had never thought he would experience that day. He had found Thorin as a baby in the middle of nowhere, he had cared for him and looked after him, taking him in while he was usually so suspicious and distrustful towards strangers. The dwarfling’s arrival in his life had awoken in him a will to take care of that little dwarf he had come to consider as his own, to protect him from everything evil in this world. And deep in his heart he knew that this would never disappear.

“Can I at least say my goodbyes to my son?” he said in a weak, broken voice, but the dwarf only shook his head.

“Don’t make this harder for either of you. Besides it is not farewell yet, you will see him again, I can promise you that, and I will make sure that you hear from him regularly.”  
The dwarf’s grip on Bilbo’s arm relaxed until it was nothing more than a gentle, comforting touch. “Trust me Master Baggins, this is best for both you and Thorin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the rather sad ending but I quite enjoy Balin the manipulator, and sad Bilbo is fun to write (I'm being sadistic to him here, I know, but I regret nothing!) There will be more happiness in the next one I promise!  
> So what will poor Bilbo choose to do? And where did Thorin and Dwalin run off to? I leave you to come up with your own ideas until the answers come in the next chapter! (don't worry this one won't take me as long as the previous one, I'm already working on it!)  
> Again a big thank you to you all for your patience, you are awesome!

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to have Bilbo's parents finding Thorin with Bilbo and Thorin basically the same age but I think mother hen!Bilbo is just too cute for words so bear with me!  
> I will try to get the next part done quickly so stay tuned!


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